<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>All My Love, Mum by mildlyexhaustednecromancer08</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28819215">All My Love, Mum</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mildlyexhaustednecromancer08/pseuds/mildlyexhaustednecromancer08'>mildlyexhaustednecromancer08</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>All My Love, [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Six - Marlow/Moss</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A lot of unsorted feelings until the queens become family, ADHD Anne Boleyn, ASD Cathy Parr, AU - Regular Lives, Again trigger warnings inside, Also Historical AU of sorts, Angst, Aroace Anne Boleyn, As in the show isn't a thing the queens have other occupations, But she kind of gets a redemption arc in this new life, Chronic Illness, Dyslexic Jane Seymour, Eventual hEDS Katherine Howard, Every chapter will have the appropriate CWs at the beginning, F/F, Family of Choice, Found Family, Given the amount of inaccuracies, Historical Inaccuracies, I don't think there's anything too graphic but I see how some things could be disturbing, Kitty is a teenager at the start and Anna is her legal guardian so, Medical trauma and medical aversions, Misunderstandings, Morally ambiguous Mary of Aragon, Platonic Katanna, Supernatural reasons for the queens' reincarnation, There aren't any depictions of violence that are graphic but I'd rather be safe than sorry, acceptance of death, but also fluff, death days, goodbye letter, the ship stuff isn't really relevant until later on; it's just alluded to in the first chapters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:41:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>148,276</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28819215</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mildlyexhaustednecromancer08/pseuds/mildlyexhaustednecromancer08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>September 4th, 2028.  Catherine Parr sits at her desk to write a letter to her six year-old daughter, Mae.  A goodbye letter, since Cathy knows it is her last day alive.  The letter details how the queens were reincarnated, how they grew to be a family and how she has reached the grizzly conclusion that, after Kitty and Jane, she will be the next to die.  A final story from the writer to her daughter</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anne of Cleves/Catherine Parr, Catherine of Aragon/Jane Seymour, Everyone &amp; Everyone</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>All My Love, [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2113005</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Waking Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Alrighty~!!  Hi, this is my first fanfic!!  That I've posted; I've written more.  Let me preface this by saying thank you for clicking on this, I hope that it is of your liking and worth your time.</p>
<p>Basically I've had a Six storyline in my mind for a while and I needed to let it out.  However I don't think I will ever do it, so I decided to tell it in two parts: this letter from Cathy to Mae explaining everything about the queens' new lives, which won't have a happy ending; and another letter from a teenage Mae to Cathy which will be happier.  This is that first letter.  It was supposed to be a one shot but it just got so long.  So here we are now.</p>
<p>Disclaimer: I own nothing. </p>
<p>Also disclaimer: I don't know if I have ADHD and/or ASD.  I'm currently getting screened for both because my therapist says I have enough symptoms to make her suspect I could have them.  If I depict anything wrong about Anne and Cathy it was out of no ill intent, please do tell me.  I do have Dyslexia and hEDS so I feel safer talking about those two subjects but I love the ADHD Anne and ASD Cathy headcanons.</p>
<p>Speaking of headcanons I am well aware I have several that are not that popular with the larger queendom, so I hope they're either interesting or at least worthwhile.  Enough of me anxious-typing, and on to the CWs for chapter 1.</p>
<p>CONTENT WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER:</p>
<p>-Allusions to beheading and executions gone wrong<br/>-Allusions to death in general (heart cancer, post-partum complications, beheading, uterine cancer)<br/>-Allusions to the Thomas Seymour affair and Katherine's early life (nothing graphic, just allusions)</p>
<p>I think that's all, if I skipped something important please let me know and I'll add it.  For now I hope you can enjoy this, thank you for reading.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>September 4th, 2028</p>
<p>My dearest Mae,</p>
<p>	Typing this letter for you is one of the strangest things I have done in my life. I am sitting here at my desk, in front of my computer, with the brightness low, as I would any other morning. You, my love, are behind me, sitting on my bed. You seem to be taking your dolls on a space adventure, but your words are lost to me. Normally that would be because I would be concentrating on an article, or on my book. </p>
<p>	But alas, today is not a common day. Until right now I would have never thought that written words would fail me as spoken ones do. Maintaining myself composed to not break down in front of you is taking up all my focus. I have spent ten minutes just to reach this second paragraph. The day outside is glorious, and once I turn off my computer you and I will go to the park. You will read every sign we see out loud, proud of how much your reading has improved. And I will smile and encourage you. I promise, my girl, that I will not let you know how much I am hurting inside.</p>
<p>	Then we will come back and spend time with your aunties and siblings. The ones of us that are left, anyway. </p>
<p>	After that, after a long and happy day, I will put you to sleep. I will tuck you in and give you a kiss as I hug you close. You will not know that it will be the last time you see me. With your beautiful sleepy smile you will wish me good dreams. And those shall be the last words you ever speak to me.</p>
<p>	As you may have guessed, today is a bittersweet day because it is the last day I will spend by your side. I won't leave, I won't end my life. I will simply die, like auntie Kitty and auntie Jane already did.</p>
<p>	It won't matter what I do, my beloved. I can stay indoors, or I can go outside. I can let my final hours be consumed by agonizing fear or attempt to lead a normal day. It will matter not. Something will happen, and I will die.</p>
<p>	The others do not wish to consider this option, but it is something that I have been theorizing for some time now. Ever since your auntie Kitty died two years ago on February 13th, to be exact. The date, as the gruesome circumstances of her passing, raised some eyebrows; but the evidence was circumstantial.</p>
<p>	However, after auntie Jane died last year precisely on October 24th I can no longer chalk these deaths up to mere coincidence. If my tribulations are correct, tomorrow will be my turn.</p>
<p>	I do wonder how old you will be when this letter is given to you. I wonder how many of us will still be alive. Potentially only Lina, and maybe just maybe Anna. I can predict their deaths, too: auntie Anne will die on May 19th two years from now. Anna, your other mother, will be forced to leave you on July 16th, 2033. And lastly your auntie Lina will join us on January 7th, 2038. Hopefully, if everything goes as I think it will, you will be raised by your siblings from then on and you will not be alone. That Mary, Lizzie and Edward are here brings me respite. I may be obliged to leave you an orphan once more, but at least you will never be alone, my love.</p>
<p>	Whenever you do receive this letter, you must have so many questions. How do I know I will die? How did I know when the others would? What sort of pattern did auntie Kitty and auntie Jane's deaths establish to make me reach this grim conclusion?</p>
<p>	I will try to answer them all. I believe that I am the best person you can hear this story from, even if by the time you read it I will no longer be beside you. Consider this the last story your mother has for you, the final narration I have for my precious child.</p>
<p>	I think if I were alive, if we all were, this would be your favourite one to date. It would make you go wide-eyed with wonder in a way no other tale has. Instead, given the circumstances, I am certain it will make you go glassy-eyed instead. And for that I apologize. If I had the slimmest of chances of evading my fate and remaining with you I would, no matter the consequence. But I have no say. And my lack of choice shall part us once more.</p>
<p>	My chest aches thinking of the prospect of leaving you an orphan yet again (patience. I will explain what I mean by 'again' shortly). This may be the most painful moment of my life. But for you, my dearest, I will push forwards. Mummy has one last story for her beautiful little princess.</p>
<p>	Well, 'little'. No matter how old you are when you get your hands on this, you will always be my little girl in my heart.</p>
<p>	Alas, I am derailing. I promised you a tale, and one you shall get. A tale and an explanation. You deserve both, so without further ado, get comfortable. Seek your siblings' company if you do not wish to be alone. Locate any source of comfort you have.</p>
<p>	Trust me. You are going to need all the comfort you can gather.</p>
<p>	The 23rd of November, 2019, something unprecedented happened. Your four aunties, Mamma Anna and myself woke up after death. We appeared in the first house you knew, before the fire, in our rooms, as if we had always belonged in this timeline.</p>
<p>	As unbelievable as it is, the six of us were the once queens of England. That which bound us together was our common husband, King Henry VIII. If you've learnt about him in school (or on your own time, my curious little bookworm) it must have struck you as odd that your family's names are so bizarrely similar. Catalina and her daughter Mary, Anne and her daughter Lizzie, Jane and and her son Edward, Anna, Katherine and Catherine... Lina being my godmother; Anne, Kitty and Jane being cousins... It is too much of a coincidence, don't you think?</p>
<p>	I could spend the next few hours typing out all the evidence I have that we were, in fact, reincarnated. All the things we know that we should not, all the historical facts that we know are blatantly wrong in history books. But I need not do that. I hope you trust me, and if you do not you can ask your siblings. They, too, remember our first lives. You do not, but it only makes sense. You passed at the age of two, long before you could form memories.</p>
<p>	I can't even imagine how you will take to this news. I can only hope you do not mourn the life you never had. But if you must, feel no shame. Some times we need to grieve before we heal.</p>
<p>	It was 8 PM when we opened our eyes to varying degrees of confusion. We were all in our rooms, as if we had been taking a simple nap and had not returned from the realm of the dead.</p>
<p>	We woke up experiencing whatever thoughts and physical pain we had been in during our final hours. Lina could not breathe from the searing ache of her heart (she passed from heart cancer); Anne's neck was also in scorching pain, but a more piercing kind; Jane and I were torn from our lives and our children in the same fashion. The both of us were in nauseating, feverish agony, unable to even stand. Anna's source of discomfort was also her abdomen, but from her description it was a different type of pain. Equally debilitating, but not something I feel confident about accurately portraying.</p>
<p>	Auntie Kitty passed out from the pain. A little heads up that explains a lot about her pains when she was alive: her execution was a bloodbath and a butchery, my girl. “Two swings of the axe” went down in history because Henry could not be bothered to admit he had hired an incompetent fool to execute a queen. Why else would our sweet Kitty's body have been dissolved in acid?</p>
<p>	The bastard didn't want to leave any evidence.</p>
<p>	If the pain were the only confusing part about waking up (this is how we named our resurrection, and how I will refer to it from here on out) we would have recovered much sooner. No, waking up was the most ethereal and complex experience I have lived in either life. I will try to put it into words as best I can.</p>
<p>	We knew who we were. Auntie Lina and I were the only ones whose memories were intact. Auntie Anne, auntie Jane and Anna were missing fragments. And even though I have reasons to suspect this may not be the complete truth, auntie Kitty insisted to her dying day that she awoke a blank slate. She remembered her execution, that she had been queen, and nothing else.</p>
<p>	Despite our awareness that we should all, by all means, be in the earth, we knew of life in the XXIst century. Having the mindset of a Tudor queen and being able to accurately explain how electricity works, or what social media is, is disconcerting in a manner nothing else has been.</p>
<p>	Our bodies were not our own; we looked nothing like we once had. And still every inch of our skin was familiar as if we had always lived within these bodies. We could also recognize each other, provided we had met in our first life, despite having never seen ourselves in these vessels.</p>
<p>	These factors alone are already a recipe for disaster, but to make matters worse we had grudges and unresolved problems with one another. Lina blamed Anne for her misfortunes; Jane blamed herself for Anne's execution. Anne, your poor auntie, was overjoyed, thriving with joy and crying happy tears upon seeing Lina and Jane. Anne remembered her friendship with Lina vividly, as she did mourning her death. She did not, however, recall the enemyhood the two had been forced into by Henry.</p>
<p>	Can you imagine your sensitive aunt dazed by the pain in her neck and the certainty she had just been beheaded, confused by her new life, bursting into tears at the relief of seeing her beloved Lina alive and well only to be pushed away? Figuratively and also literally?</p>
<p>	She could not speak for days after that. She did not know why her adored friend hated her. </p>
<p>	Little by little she regained her memories; as did everyone. When Anne remembered the fate that had befallen Lina she fell into a self-destructive spiral, thinking her beheading was well deserved. She would not accept apologies from Jane, insisting that it was only fitting she had payed the price of her treachery with her life. You know how sensitive auntie Jane was, you can only imagine how much Anne's stance affected her.</p>
<p>	But I am getting far ahead of myself. The three of them were one of the two main focal points if interpersonal distress this household had yet to go through. The other were your mother, auntie Kitty and myself.</p>
<p>	Anna and Kitty had been close in their first life. As Anna's Lady in Waiting, Kitty and her had become inseparable. Kitty entered her service at fourteen, and was wrenched away from both Anna and her life three years later. Can you imagine Anna's happiness upon encountering a very much alive thirteen year-old Katherine? She was under a month away from her fourteenth birthday, just like when she and Anna first crossed paths.</p>
<p>	The second Anna's eyes landed on Kitty she made a promise. Nobody this time round was to touch a hair on her beloved Katherine's head. She had been unable to save her once, but this time she would fail over her own dead body.</p>
<p>	As ashamed I am to say this, and as inexcusable as it is, my feelings towards auntie Kitty were quite hostile at first. I despised her, blaming her for my forced marriage to Henry. </p>
<p>	Be angry at me, or even hate me if you must. I know how close you were to your dearest auntie before her untimely death. I have not forgiven myself, either. The only thing I can say to explain (not excuse, for I cannot excuse it) my mindset was that I had been fed so many lies about Kitty at court. Lies about her as a person and about her as a queen.</p>
<p>	Disliking Kitty equated to having personal problems with Anna, who had taken on the role of her guardian. It may be strange for you to imagine a time in which your mother and I could direct only insults and words sharp as knives at each other. But that was exactly the relationship we had back then.</p>
<p>	The interpersonal problems would not remain contained to two clear cut groups, but that messiness is for later. For now I am concentrating on trying to convey how it was to wake up on that fateful night. </p>
<p>	From what we gathered later on, we must have awoken at approximately the same time. Wails and shrieks filled the house. I, for one, knew I was Catherine Parr; but I also knew I was in a bedroom and that I needed to press a light switch to make it light up. Alas I could not, for any movement, even one as mild as rolling over in bed and reaching for the switch, was too nauseating. Along with Jane and Kitty I was the one who took the longest to gain autonomy.</p>
<p>	After a single yelp of pain, Kitty passed out. Despite having never heard that voice Anna knew it was her dearest Katherine; the young Lady in Waiting turned best friend whose death she had always blamed herself for. Anna knew not what was happening, and she could not stand upright from the tight pain in her abdomen, but you know your mother. She forced herself to stand and shambled in the direction she'd heard the scream. Unlucky for her, her first bedroom, before she moved into mine, was the one that was later Mary's, on the ground floor. How she made it upstairs even she could never explain, it was as if some force were giving her the strength to. </p>
<p>	Apparently she got into the wrong bedroom twice. She found Anne huddled in a corner first, swatting away at invisible guards leading her to a scaffold five centuries in the past. Then Anna found Lina, paralyzed in bed gasping for breath, clutching her chest as if her heart wished to break through her ribcage and she desired to contain it. At this point, Anna had only seen your aunties in portraits. They were not the only ones who were screaming, and she had no personal bonds with them. She needed to prioritize, and thus she finally made it to her destination.</p>
<p>	She found our Katherine unconscious in her bed. Her breathing was erratic and her face scrunched up in pain. Anna replaced Kitty's pillow with her lap and stayed with her until she awoke almost an hour afterwards. She later confessed to us that she found herself unable to remove her gaze from Kitty's face, running her fingers gently through her hair. She could not believe that they were both alive, but there was no way she was going to question it. Whatever was happening she had her dearest kitten back beside her. The others' agonizing screams could wait.</p>
<p>	Anne was the next one to recover. As soon as reality became tangible for her and she found herself grounded in her room instead of the Tower of London she too wandered the house. Torn between having recognized Jane's and Lina's voices Anne came down from the attic and walked into the nearest bedroom, which happened to be Lina's.</p>
<p>	Let me remind you that Anne held no memories of the enemyhood between them, whereas Lina did. Lina did not know of heart cancer, and she heavily suspected Anne had ordered her to be poisoned. When Anne, crying with joy and concern, sat on Lina's bed expressing her relief at finding her alive, Lina gathered all her strength to push her away. She screamed and screamed for Anne to leave, calling for guards that were not there.</p>
<p>	We now know the word for Anne's understanding of the world in this life is 'ADHD', and that it comes with something known as 'Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria'. This was not, however, something any of us (herself included) were familiar with upon waking up. The sudden intensity of Lina's aggression struck Anne as if she had been kicked in the chest. And still your dear auntie forced herself to remain calm. Lina was disoriented as she had been, she thought at first. Why else would she be calling for guards?</p>
<p>	Seeing as her presence alone was making Lina's awakening more painful Anne went to seek Jane. Jane could stand on her own, but her mind was still consumed by the daze of childbed fever. She roamed the house in despair, calling for Joan. She needed her Lady in Waiting, for the woman had her baby boy, Edward. Anne knew not of any Edward, but understood her cousin must have had a son before passing away. As such, while Jane wandered and wailed in hear-twrenching agony, Anne accompanied her to make sure she was safe.</p>
<p>	Great part of the reason it took me such a long time to join the others was Jane's screaming. What we later learnt was ASD was foreign to me. My brain and its working was more of a stranger to me than my body which I could not recall having ever seen. I processed everything differently, Jane's wails were painful and filled me with frustration. How, then, had I been able to make it through loud court dances and Henry's yells without breaking down? I curled up in bed and covered my head with my pillow, hoping she would quiet down as soon as possible.</p>
<p>	You may be wondering why Jane was delirious over being away from her child and I payed you no mind. It has nothing to do with the affection I feel towards you, my precious Mae. I did not remember you. My final hours during your birth were dazed. I did not even mention you in my will for I was not aware that you had been born. I remembered a pregnancy, yes, but I could not recall my baby. I was far too gone when you were placed in my arms to recall you. Until I started researching my first life I had no idea you existed.</p>
<p>	I feel the need to apologize for this, my girl. I have no need to, for it was not my fault nor did I have any control over it; but if learning that I did not remember you upsets you I am sorry for causing you that pain.</p>
<p>	Anne was still pacing with Jane and Anna was still reassuring herself that Katherine was real when Lina managed to walk. She later on explained she heard me whimpering, a sound I was not aware I was making. She recognized me, as she had met me as a child. I recognized her from the stories my mother told of her and the portraits I had seen. She was my godmother, and I had married her husband. The same husband she had loved until her dying breath. I thought she must hate me.</p>
<p>	But she simply asked me what was wrong, and did not push me when she saw I struggled to speak. She stayed with me, in that dark room, holding my hand until Jane collapsed on the couch, consumed with grief over the loss of her baby. Anne held her, only then realizing that her own Lizzie was also absent. That was her second emotional strike of the night. Anne had been so engrossed in helping the others that she had not stopped to think about herself for a second. </p>
<p>	She described the sudden realization as complete denial. It felt as if her little girl would pop out from any room at any given moment and hug her. Holding Jane through her breakdown didn't feel real; it felt like a dream.</p>
<p>	While Anne consoled Jane despite being unable to cope with her own feelings; and while Lina comforted me regardless of her comprehension of the source of my distress, Kitty woke up.</p>
<p>	She woke up in a state we never quite saw her in again, and one in which you never met her. She woke up happy.</p>
<p>	Those would be the only instants of her second life Katherine Howard would live the childhood she was so cruelly torn from in her first.</p>
<p>	Anna says she practically sprung into her arms, overjoyed at seeing her again. Katherine didn't understand what was happening, either, but she had the one thing she had ever wanted: Anna by her side.</p>
<p>	The following explanation is me getting ahead of myself, but I think some background information on their bond would come in handy here; as it will explain their behaviour towards each other for the rest of this story. Katherine came from a cruel and loveless family. All she ever yearned for in her first life was to be cared for and loved. Every person she ever trusted her precious and fragile heart with betrayed her in the worst possible ways. Every person she loved placed her one step closer to the scaffold where she lost her life. People didn't care about Kitty; they only cared about what they could get from her. Be that status and power or things best left unsaid. I will not divulge Kitty's private life, but I am certain if you've read anything about the Tudor period you will know what I am talking about. Just know that none of those relationships were consensual; and even if they had been Katherine was a child and could not, under any circumstances, consent. Do not let clueless at best and vile at worst historians change your view on your dearest auntie.</p>
<p>	The sole exception to that was Anna. Anna always cared about Katherine, developing a soft spot for her the day they met with how clueless the girl was. While Anna had a relatively good relationship with most her family she was taken away from them when her father forced her to marry Henry. After she hurt his ego (I will say this: I met Anna in our first life and she was the exact opposite of ugly) and he decided to divorce her she experienced international shunning and mockery. She made one friend in court before Katherine, Bessie Blount, but the woman died shortly after. After the divorce Anna was sent to live in Richmond, but there were no people who truly cared for her there; only people who tolerated her for her status as the 'King's Sister'. She was not allowed to remarry, and because of it she was deprived of her heart's deepest desire.</p>
<p>	A little discussed, or little known, fact about your mother is that she always yearned to be that: a mother. She saw Henry's children as her own; but at most they saw her as an aunt. She understood, it just made sense: they all had their own mothers and she had no intent to replace them.</p>
<p>	So then, my dear, picture the following: a deathly lonely woman craving a family or at least someone who cared for her as a person and not a nobility title; and a loveless child used to being manipulated and abused needing affection with little to no regards for or knowledge of etiquette.</p>
<p>	Yes, what I am saying is that the two completed each other in a way nobody else could have. They were mother and daughter five centuries before Anna decided to adopt her. Anna, however, always trod around Katherine with care, not wanting to add to her already crushing burden; and Kitty was raised to feel like a nuisance and something to take advantage of. Anna did not want to overstep any of Kitty's boundaries and Kitty did not wish to be clingy to Anna and become an annoyance to the only person who had ever cared about her.</p>
<p>	Anna and Kitty stayed in the latter's room longer than the rest of us stayed in ours, being the last to join us in the living room. Neither of them ever spoke of what happened during that time until our sweetest Katherine died. Only then did Anna tell me on one of the many sleepless nights she suffered through that they simply stayed together as if they had been glued, revelling in each other's company. Wordlessly reassuring the other that she wasn't alone anymore, that for once things had somehow, in some inexplicable way worked in their favour, and nobody was going to do them apart again.</p>
<p>	While they shared their silent reunion Jane had quieted at last, collapsing with exhaustion. Anne was still dazed, almost being able to hear her adored Elizabeth's laughter is she concentrated hard enough. Why had she been brought back without her sweetest girl? </p>
<p>	But you know our Annie. She is always last on her list of priorities, and that was how she functioned when we woke up, too. As such, after making sure Jane would stay still and be fine on her own, Anne swallowed her grief down and made her way to Lina's bedroom. She needed to make sure her dearest friend was safe and sound as well.</p>
<p>	The timing, however, was very unfortunate. As Anne made her way upstairs Lina and I descended. Lina was starving, and I was in a bit of a predicament with her: on the one hand I admired her and wished to stick close to the only source of familiarity and comfort in the mess that was reincarnation. At the same time, however, I feared she would hate me for having wed Henry. As much as I needed confirmation of her feelings to know whether it was right for me to lean on her, the fear of her rejection overpowered my searing doubts. So when instead of starting a conversation Lina frowned in pain and insisted she needed to eat something, I followed her without saying a word. The longer she didn't state that she hated me, the longer I could still count on my godmother.</p>
<p>	We met Anne at the stairs and the following events have been burnt into my mind for all these years. Anne smiled, relieved, saying that she was so happy to see Lina again. She asked if she was feeling better, if she was still in pain.</p>
<p>	And then Lina pushed her.  With force.</p>
<p>	Luck had it that Anne was only two stairs up, but she did lose balance and fell down. She didn't hurt herself too bad, but that rejection from an undoubtedly mentally stable Lina was more devastating than a blow to the head could have ever been. It was the first time I saw your auntie shut down. At first she didn't get up from her place on the blue carpet. She just blinked, staring at the ceiling. When Jane rushed to her side life seemed to come back into Anne. She shied away from touch as if contact with her skin would burn her. Anne retreated into a corner and sat there, huddled on the floor, stare blank.</p>
<p>	While this event definitely marked a before and after in our poor Anne, it was shocking at least for Jane and myself as well. Jane, who had always idolized Lina and gone as far as to 'steal' Henry away from Anne as revenge for her 'replacing' Lina...</p>
<p>	Well, there is no easy way to finish that sentence. You must first, my child, understand the complex relationship they three had, too.</p>
<p>	Lina and Anne had been close when the second was Lina's Lady in Waiting. Then Henry tired of Lina since she did not bear any surviving male heirs for him and started looking for lovers elsewhere. There was the repulsive affair with Bessie Blount (she was Lina's Lady as well) first, and then the bastard set his sights on the Boleyn sisters. Mary first, and later on Anne caught his eye with her witty personality and remarkably good looks.</p>
<p>	Anne did not want his attention, though. For one she was in love with another man, Henry Percy. And secondly, she had no desire of hurting Catalina like that. Anne resisted Henry's advances for seven years until she caved in. She simply realized that Henry would get rid of his wife regardless, and that if it wasn't Anne that replaced her it would be someone else. As such, to save herself and her family from a grizzly fate by angering the king, Anne accepted his advances much to her disgust.</p>
<p>	Lina was irate at her for it, losing all consideration for her as a friend and as a person. She was also a very loved queen, and as such Anne was framed as a temptress, a witch, and all manner of heinous, dehumanizing things, by nobles and peasants alike. Anne was hated for a title she had never wanted, and lost one of her closest friends for it, too.</p>
<p>	Later on, she would even lose her head.</p>
<p>	Henry was a monster.</p>
<p>	I'm not saying Anne didn't make a series of questionable choices, especially regarding Lina's Mary, during her reign. But the facts are that she was no witch, no derogatory terms used for sexually active women, and no power-hungry seductress. She may have revelled in the power that being queen gave her, but that was simply her accepting her role of the villain. No matter what she did, or what she said, everybody saw her as a witch and hated her without giving her a chance. Eventually their hatred built up inside of her and she decided to embrace it. If they wanted a scheming queen then that they would have. If Anne ever was a monster (which, despite her constant self-deprecation, I doubt) she was a monster forged by hatred.</p>
<p>	And Lina had a lot to do in that. Instead of understanding Anne's plight, or admiring how hard she had fought to avoid Henry, she added lumber to the fire raging in the people when Anne was crowned queen. Anne's affection and compassion for Lina turned to venom in her heart. Any positive feeling lrft towards her Anne burnt to ashes.</p>
<p>	Jane was also Lina's Lady, and a very devout one at that. The two were close, much closer than Jane was to her cousin Anne. Jane was also gullible and easy to manipulate. Unlike Lina and Anne, Jane was meek and subservient. She had been raised to become (read: manipulated and abused into becoming) the perfect wife (by the patriarchy's standards). Jane's loyalty to Lina was unfaltering, and so when her family pushed her in the right direction to try getting Henry's affection, Jane accepted without a second thought.</p>
<p>	She even grew to love him. 'Stockholm's Syndrome' it's called nowadays.</p>
<p>	Do not be too harsh on your auntie for that. Yes, she was rather cruel towards Anne (the locket incident comes to mind); but if anything Jane acted out of ignorance. She was convinced that Henry would simply divorce Anne and send her to a nunnery, as he had Lina.</p>
<p>	Jane could not have suspected Anne would be the first British queen to be executed. Getting Anne killed was never her intention.</p>
<p>	She didn't talk about this guilt so much after the first few years; but it did pop up in conversations some times. Last time I talked to Jane about this was a few months before her death. She couldn't sleep, neither could I, and we went to the porch with some tea. Looking at the sky, the moon reflected in her eyes, she told me there was as much of Anne's blood on the scaffold as there was on her hands. That she may not have been the executioner; but when she looked in the mirror it was all she saw. Some times she dreamt of holding the sword herself.</p>
<p>	After watching Anne's beheading, Jane grew afraid of Henry. But that's more of a matter of the inner workings of her mind and less a matter of the relationship dynamics between Jane, Anne and Lina.</p>
<p>	Jane's remorse over Anne's horrendous fate did not, however, wash away her admiration towards Lina. After all, she could not blame Anne's downfall on her in any capacity.</p>
<p>	The wide eyed, look of horror on Jane's face when she saw Lina, her hero, push Anne down some steps, was haunting. She stood there, frozen for a couple of seconds, before shaking her head and running up to Anne. Since we did not know that Anne has ADHD, when she scooted away from Jane's touch Jane interpreted it as rejection, too. And it's not like she could blame Anne for hating her, either. She, too, hated herself for convincing Henry to leave Anne.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>	Suddenly Jane was alone. Her cousin, as far as she was concerned, despised her. And Lina, her friend, her ideal of royalty and everything good in the world, had just hurt a person in cold blood. Jane stayed in the living room, casting long, glistening glances at Anne and Lina. But she did not let a single tear fall.</p>
<p>	It was a shock for me, too. That Catalina of Aragon, who I'd heard so many stories of growing up, had harmed someone directly... And after Anne looked so relieved and hopeful to see her, too...</p>
<p>	It made me wonder if I was taking the right side by following Lina to the kitchen. Looking back on it, maybe I should have stayed in the living room. Pushing Anne off some stairs, no matter how small the fall was, was entirely out of place. </p>
<p>	Lina didn't speak to me once in the kitchen. She regarded the fridge and the microwave with curiosity, but also knew how to operate them. Every time she did something right she raised an eyebrow in surprise. It was as if she'd heard, theoretically, that there are noodles you can put in a metal box and cook in under a minute; but she wasn't actually expecting it to work.</p>
<p>	I wasn't, either. All our knowledge of the XXIst century back then was purely theoretical.</p>
<p>	On the kitchen table were some papers. ID cards, contracts... All of our legal papers. Apparently five of us were renting the house. Kitty was Anna's legal charge. We also had medical records and every other relevant bit of paperwork we could need.</p>
<p>	Lina seemed disappointed when she said we'd have to tell the others. We needed to sort this situation out so we could find out how to go about our separate ways as soon as possible.</p>
<p>	I interpreted she must not want me around, that she had cared for me out of a sense of obligation. However, I did not tell her. It was to be expected that she would hate me, after all. I married the man she loved, there were bound to be grudges.</p>
<p>	When we entered the living room again Anna and Kitty were coming downstairs. Now, for as much as I have described Katherine as a child (and by all means she was) she didn't act as such. She carried herself with the elegance and grace of a queen. She wasn't terrified, clinging to Anna and shrunken. She held her head high, her back straight, and she greeted everyone with little hesitation and a lot of politeness.</p>
<p>	A much more civilized way of addressing us than my eye roll the second I saw her.</p>
<p>	There was a lot of hatred directed Kitty's way, in fact. I blamed her for my marriage; but Lina, Anne and Jane were all wary of her for being a Howard. Despite being met with indifference at the kindest and glares at the worst, Katherine stood her ground. What I saw at that moment as an egotistical child thinking too highly of herself I now see as admirable. There was this child, this thirteen year-old, in a room full of adults who were not subtle about their dislike towards her, keeping a calm and collected persona.</p>
<p>	We often described Kitty as 'an adult in a teenager's body'. As accurate of a description as that is, it's sickening to think about what situations she had been forced into to grow up so fast. There was no spark of mischeviousness in her, no spontaneous teenage rebellion at any point. Just a lot of bottled up emotions ready to burst hidden beneath a steel façade.</p>
<p>	Then again, it shouldn't have been that surprising. I was there the day she died. I saw how at ease she was, after some comprehensible shaking, as she spoke her final words. I witnessed the grace with which she knelt before the scaffold. She died in such a queenly fashion it should not have been surprising to find that she was gentleness personified five centuries later.</p>
<p>	Lina and I distributed what we'd found in the kitchen. Those of us who'd never met introduced ourselves. Nobody made an effort to try making sense of what we had experienced, we all just knew we'd been reincarnated. With the same certainty we knew we had no idea how or why. It was as ingrained in us as knowledge of electronics. We shouldn't be so positive, and yet we inexplicably were.</p>
<p>	Granted, we are reincarnated Tudor queens. I don't think there's supposed to be anything explicable about that.</p>
<p>	One of the things that stands out to me about the collective paper reading to this day was Anna's smile after finding out she was Kitty's legal guardian. After seeing the disdain with which her beloved Katherine was met she'd kept this stone expression all the time, mouth twisted at the corners into a scowl. But... You know your mother's warm, golden retriever-like personality, Mae? You know that smile of hers that makes the world a better place? That's what we saw when she read that Kitty was her responsibility. At the time she'd been terrified that she would be Anne or Jane's legal charge, since they were family.</p>
<p>	And then she was just incredibly happy that she'd get to care for someone in this life. At the moment she thought that was as close she'd ever get to being someone's mother.</p>
<p>	Another instant that sticks out in my memory was Jane's rejection of Lina. Seeing that they're married now (allow me to make a side note to say you were the world's most adorable flower girl) and how much they love each other it must be confusing to picture this; but do remember that Jane had just seen Lina's perfection crumble to dust before her.</p>
<p>	Jane has Dyslexia, as we now know. But again, back then we did not. She simply thought she was still illiterate. So when she shyly muttered that she couldn't read her papers, someone had to offer a helping hand. Lina did, apparently glad to see one of her most loyal Ladies regardless of her initial indifference towards her. </p>
<p>	Despite being our most soft-spoken and indecisive family member, when Lina reached over to grab Jane's papers Jane pulled them out of reach, stating that she'd figure them out later.</p>
<p>	Needless to say, despite her best attempts, she did not figure them out. Not until she started learning of ways to deal with Dyslexia.</p>
<p>	Lina, for a split second, was visibly flabbergasted at having been rejected by Jane, of all people. But she was too annoyed over sharing a room with Anne at the moment to address that, so she continued sorting through her own life papers.</p>
<p>	A lot of talking was done that night, and little of it was handled maturely. Off-hand remarks, passive-aggressive comments, outright ignoring certain people... It was a mess. You must be so confused reading about your family treating each other like this. I can't say what will befuddle you more: the part about being reincarnated or the fact that there was a point in time we could not stand each other.</p>
<p>	I wish I were with you to see your reaction, my love.</p>
<p>	But that's beside the point.</p>
<p>	We reached one conclusion: we had six months left in our contract to our landlord. With our jobs we could not afford to pay the rent of this house and also some other flat so we didn't have to live together. We ran the numbers many times, the math simply did not work. Despite it all, we would have to tolerate each other for half a year.</p>
<p>	We decided it would be best if we were to stay out of each other's ways as much as possible in that time. Ignoring each other was better than arguing until our throats were raw. With that, we went to sleep. We may have just woken up, but our bodies were exhausted as if we hadn't rested in weeks.</p>
<p>	Anne left first. She hadn't spoken much throughout the whole meeting, limiting herself to curt nods and at most whispered monosyllabic answers. It was her first experience going non-verbal from stress. Later on she admitted she was afraid she had lost her voice, and that it took all her self-control not to break down. After she closed her bedroom door she had a full breakdown, she felt as if she'd been beaten with a stick. Why were we alive? Why had she been beheaded? Why did Lina hate her?</p>
<p>	Why had she been cursed to be brought back without her daughter?</p>
<p>	Jane followed shortly after. She tried reaching Anne, but Anne waved her off. Until they started talking to each other much later there were two interpretations of that situation: Anne thought Jane was going to request her help reading and wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone; and Jane thought Anne hated her.</p>
<p>	When Jane closed her door, she cried into her pillow until she felt asleep. As painful as thoughts of her Edward were, she months later admitted that she experienced a different brand of grief that night: being confronted with the woman whose death she was convinced she was responsible for.</p>
<p>	Anna and Kitty sorted their papers into a neat little stack and headed to the stairwell. When Kitty bade Anna a good night, Anna grabbed her by the sleeve of her jumper and asked her to stay with her, if she pleased. She couldn't believe she had Kitty again, she was afraid of letting her out of her sight. But she was also, as I said, respectful of Kitty's boundaries, so when Katherine said she would only stay until Anna fell asleep, Anna agreed.</p>
<p>	They lay together side by side and Kitty asked why Anna had filed both their papers together. Anna assumed it was a given that, wherever the two went to after the six month period, they would go together. Kitty did not understand why Anna would want to stay by her side indeffinitely, but the thought alone almost made her cry happy tears. She rolled over and offered to have a sleepover with Anna instead, and the two drifted off into slumber happily cuddled up.</p>
<p>	Anna finally had her dearest friend back, and Kitty, though taken aback by all the negative feelings we had for her, could not care less: she was wanted by the only person she needed. As long as she had Anna, she would be alright.</p>
<p>	Lina stayed a little longer to wash the dish she'd used. I... I didn't know what to do, Mae. I wanted to run back to my room, to postpone the conversation until the morning. But I found that I could not. The thought that Lina might hate me, that the one person I at least knew of in all the confusion, may want me to stay away...</p>
<p>	I couldn't handle it. And since I couldn't I just asked her and prayed for the best.</p>
<p>	Lina... Well, you have to understand, she is fiercely, fiercely loyal. It took her a while, much more than a few hours, to accept that she had been loyal to a monster all her life. Because, in her eyes, if she had been loyal to a bad person, then she must be one as well. She could not accept that, she could not think that about herself. And so she told me, in no uncertain terms, that despite not hating me she was rather displeased with my choice.</p>
<p>	...Choice? I had no choice to marry Henry. I was forced to, I had no say in it, powerless! I never loved him, I had not wanted to marry him. </p>
<p>	I loved someone else back then. Someone as bad as Henry.</p>
<p>	But more on that later.</p>
<p>	Lina's words hurt, they hurt more than if she'd simply said she hated me. After I returned to my room without as much as bidding her good night I crawled into my bed and found that I could not sleep. Despite being exhausted, despite needing to rest, I could not. I got up and turned on my laptop instead. I didn't know how I knew the password, I just did. I was a writer. And if I could not sleep, then I would write. If only my tribulations and theories, but I needed to get the words out of my head. </p>
<p>	Only once I emptied my mind of every thought and every hypothesis did I find that rest could take me. </p>
<p>	And as for Lina, it took her a while to be open with us about what she'd felt that night. Partly because she was one of the hardest people to reach emotionally at first, and partly because she would grow to be ashamed of her actions.</p>
<p>	She learnt that she had caused me great harm with her ignorance. She learnt that she had dealt Anne a blow she had no reason to (two blows, if you count the physical one). She found out eventually that she had shattered Jane's last ounce of hope that her actions towards Anne may have been in the slightest bit excusable. She discovered that she had been cold towards a child who was starved for affection.</p>
<p>	But she didn't see those events as wrongs just yet. That night, when she locked her door behind her, she stared at the ceiling until her eyes closed of their own accord. That night, she only had words and thoughts for God. Mainly, three questions.</p>
<p>	How had this happened? Why had he allowed it to? Was being here, in a house with all of the -in her opinion at the time, she regrets this to this day- whores who had seduced and corrupted her beloved Henry punishment for something?</p>
<p>	A lot of feelings and thoughts remained behind closed doors that night, Mae. A lot of hurt and confusion that didn't see the light. Our pain would remain locked away for another while, my girl, because building a home out of six women whose only common denominator is an abusive ex-husband is no easy feat.</p>
<p>	Now that you know how we came back, my sweetheart, it's time I tell you about how we became a family. To give you a heads up: with a lot of work, communication, and patience.</p>
<p>	And a lot, a lot of perseverance from auntie Kitty.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The First Death Days (Lina and Kitty)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have two chapters written already, so there's that.  I'll skip to the CWs for this one since I don't have anything to add from the last things I typed in chapter 1</p>
<p>CONTENT WARNINGS:</p>
<p>-Blood (very small amount)<br/>-Hair pulling due to stress<br/>-Reliving death<br/>-Hallucinations and dissociation<br/>-Sensory overload<br/>-Vomiting (not graphic or described, just mentioned)<br/>-Execution gone wrong (with more detail than last time, since it's about Kitty reliving her death day)</p>
<p>I think that does it.  Again, if I skipped something important please do let me know; these are the things I think people could find triggering.  Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>We mostly avoided each other, interacting no more than the absolutely necessary.  “Let me by”, “I was going to use the kitchen too”, and the like.  Depending on who was talking, these exchanges were more cordial or more passive aggressive.  Lina would have only been comfortable with Jane; but did not understand why Jane had rejected her.  Anne left her room to go to work, period.  She even stocked up on food and water in there to avoid the offchance of crossing paths with Lina.  Jane tried getting close to Anne, but understood her isolation as rejection.  Anna and Kitty stuck together, always, at all times.  </p>
<p>	Their behaviour was a bit jarring at first.  I knew they had already met, I knew they were close.  But seriously, did Anna think we were going to attack Katherine or something like that?  </p>
<p>	I was wrong, Mae.  Anna was trying to protect Kitty, yes.  But it was Kitty who adhered to her like a shadow not for safety; but to protect her from us.</p>
<p>	Kitty was not ignorant of the hostility we'd greeted her with.  She knew that if we said the slightest thing to her that caused her any pain and Anna found out she would have no qualms about making a huge deal out of it.  Anna had made it clear from day one that whoever had a problem with Kitty had a problem with her.</p>
<p>	And, well, you know your mother: she's equal parts bite and bark.  If she says she will do something, then she will.  But, as you also know, my most beloved Anna is one of the most peaceful, non-confrontational people there are.  Had she engaged in any sort of fight to (rightfully, I may add) defend Katherine, Anna would have still felt bad.  She would have gone to bed that night sullen, her upbeat self lost in self-doubt.  Could she have found another way to handle the situation?  Was she justified, or too brash?</p>
<p>	Self-doubt has always been your mother's biggest problem, dear.  She has constantly second-guessed every one of her choices since reincarnation.  It's gotten better, but like all of our problems I don't think it was ever truly fixed.</p>
<p>	Again, I am going off on tangents.  I'm sorry, my girl, the nature of this letter makes it hard for me to keep my thoughts organized.</p>
<p>	Katherine forsaw this.  As the person who Anna was closest to she was, at the time, the only one of us who knew to what degree insecurities eat away at your mother.  Kitty simply figured that if she stuck by Anna at all times we would not be as willing to initiate a confrontation.</p>
<p>	For the record, she wasn't wrong.  Having Anna within a five foot radius of a person makes others not want to enrage them.  Have I ever told you one of the things that made me fall for your mother is the stark contrast between her tough outside self and her internal gentle and kind personality?</p>
<p>	I will miss that so much until she joins me.  And still I wish she didn't have to.</p>
<p>	I'm sorry for fixating on this point, but the relationship dynamic between Anna and Kitty has always fascinated me.  Kitty imagined that if we were rude to her Anna would feel compelled to get involved and then would feel bad about it.  To prevent Anna, her only friend, from dealing with more baggage than she already had from reincarnation, she decided to avoid the problem altogether.</p>
<p>	Looking back on it, Kitty was horrifyingly analytical for her age.  She always tried to forsee everyone's next moves as if her life were a game of chess and a simple misstep could cost her greatly.</p>
<p>	I wonder if that was merely a personality trait of hers or if there was a time, before she was forced to grow up so fast, where she simply enjoyed the company of others without the strain of trying to predict their actions.  I pray she had that peace at some point, and I pray that she has regained it wherever it is that she and Jane are.</p>
<p>	As for me, the only person I would have felt comfortable spending time with would have been Lina; if only for the familiarity.  I was not on speaking terms with Anna and Kitty (berate me as much as you must, no matter how much it is I promise I have berated myself tenfold).  I did not know Anne and, for reasons I will explain later (assuming you don't already know) I could not bear to look at her without being consumed by guilt.  Jane reminded me of her brother (my last husband and your father).  She looked nothing like him in this century, but just knowing that she was technically my sister-in-law made me uncomfortable.  I wanted no ties to Thomas Seymour, not even contact with Jane.</p>
<p>	Do you remember the nightmares your siblings started having two years ago?  A little before auntie Kitty's death?  How they would wake up wailing in the night, stuck in a past that no longer existed, desperate and inconsolable?</p>
<p>	They had just gotten their memories back, Mae.  It turns out nightmares are a side-effect of reincarnation.  Or, at the very least, of recalling one's past life.  Your siblings did not remember theirs until two years ago; but that is getting far too ahead of myself.</p>
<p>	I was trying to illustrate the nightly scenario our house was in for a very, very long time.  Screams filled the darkness every night.  Rarely was it only one person suffering them.  Lina, Anne and I were the loudest.  Jane and Anna were relatively quiet; and Katherine didn't make a sound.</p>
<p>	I guess you can imagine us swarming to each other's bedrooms at night when we heard someone's distress.  It must be hard, neigh impossible, to picture us ignoring the others' suffering.  If Lina woke up whimpering, or if Jane's sniffles were loud enough, nobody went to them.  To any of us, for that matter.  The only people who's night terrors were tended to in the early days were, of course, Kitty and Anna.  They rarely slept in separate bedrooms, anyways.  In a mixture of keeping the only friendly people in a hostile environment close and trying to make up for the lost time, Kitty and Anna often went to bed together and talked about everything and nothing until one of them fell asleep.</p>
<p>	You know?  When your auntie died, Anna told me that those nights, despite how tense the overall situation was, were some of her fondest memories of Kitty.  She had already been tainted by the cruelty of the world, yes; but in the safety of Anna's presence was the closest she ever came to being genuinely at ease.  In the middle of the battle field of wit and words our house used to be, Katherine brought Anna peace.</p>
<p>	I'd hazard to say that was our dynamic for the first month.  Christmas wasn't celebrated that year, nothing special was done.  It would have been too easy if we had found our truce in the Yule season, with all the societal pressure to put differences aside.  No, that Christmas was as freezing cold as the snow that piled in our garden.  The ambiance inside was suffocating, so I tried to spend as much time as possible outside.  But the outside, with all the happy families and scenes, made the loneliness I felt worse.  So in the end I, too, locked myself in my room.  In there I tried to type the pain away, writing as if every keystroke would ease my heart.</p>
<p>	I guess that was the start of my insomnia.  I can't recall having such an unhealthy addiction to working at night before that Christmas.  At night there was nobody else around, there were no chances of running into anyone; or at the very least they were much slimmer than in the morning.  </p>
<p>	No, the only thing that happened that Christmas, from what I gathered from talking to the rest later on, was an ache.  A general longing to be with people who were no longer there, to spend the festivities surrounded by loved ones and not hiding away from our housemates in a life we hadn't asked for.</p>
<p>	The first significant event, step to bring us closer, if you will, was the first death day.  January 7th, Catalina of Aragon died of heart cancer five centuries prior.</p>
<p>	Up until that day we didn't have a clue what a 'death day' was, or what it would entail.  Or that they would happen at all.  </p>
<p>	Come to think of it, I believe I should explain just what a death day is, and how they work.  I'm sorry, my girl.  The concept is so clear in my mind I jumped straight into the story.</p>
<p>	A death day is the day in which one of us died.  'Us' meaning your aunties, your mother and I; you and your siblings don't seem to go through death days.  It's one of the many reasons I believe your reincarnation was different from ours and operates in another way; but more on that much later.</p>
<p>	On the dates on which we died whoever is suffering the death day enters  a trance of sorts.  We're stuck in the past from midnight to whichever moment we died in, reliving the events that lead to our deaths.  Any fear or pain associated with it we are forced to go through.  We have not found a way to stop them, or to make them easier.  We simply try to accomodate the person having it and prevent them from injury (it's happened more than once that someone thrashing in pain, or trying to escape some guards, has fallen over and gotten a very much real injury from an imaginary event).</p>
<p>	Then again, that is now, nine years after our reincarnation.  We also got good at handling them much earlier, before you children returned to our lives.  However, that first 7th of January, we knew not what was going to happen.</p>
<p>	At midnight Lina started whimpering and moaning.  Not an uncommon occurence.  However, it did not stop.  Despite my unsorted feelings towards her after her implication that I had married Henry by choice I was worried when twenty minutes went by and she showed no signs of waking up from the nightmare I assumed she was having.</p>
<p>	As I left my bedroom so did Kitty and Anna, they too were concerned.  Jane poked her head out of her room, but upon seeing that the situation was already going to be handled she went back to bed.  Anna tugged on Katherine's sleeve, suggesting they too go back.  But Kitty stared me down and made her way to Lina's room.</p>
<p>	She did not trust me to handle the situation.  I can't blame her for that, I don't think she'd seen me be anything other than passive-aggressive at that point.  Anna directed a warning glance my way and followed her.</p>
<p>	Going back to bed was extremely tempting.  However, I did not trust them, either.  And, if anyone's, Lina was my responsability.  She was my godmother regardless of my feelings.</p>
<p>	The three of us knocked on Lina's door to no avail.  We did not want to infringe on her privacy, or come in uninvited.  Several times Anna insisted she and Kitty leave me and Lina alone; but Katherine would not budge.  She feared Lina was ill, she wasn't going anywhere.  There was a difference between ignoring each other and abandoning each other while incapacitated.</p>
<p>	Anne came from the attic, and Jane joined us, too.  This was the first time since the day we woke up a vast majority of us were together.  Let alone having a conversation.  Anne was very distressed by the idea of Lina being ill.  After one last knock on the door, we decided it was best if we went in.</p>
<p>	Lina was in her bed, eyes open talking to someone.  Her most loyal Lady in Waiting and friend, María de Salinas.  Obviously the woman was not there, but Lina thought she was.  She was speaking in Spanish, holding every bit of a one-sided conversation, thanking María for her companionship through all the years.  She even made pauses for the other to answer, and got cut off mid-sentence by the invisible Lady.</p>
<p>	We tried talking to her, but it accomplished nothing.  As I said, death days are inherently hallucinogenic and dissociative.  Eventually I took initiative and attempted to shake her awake.  Obviously it heralded no results.  </p>
<p>	To say at that point Anne was panicking would be an understatement.  She was a wreck.  Lina may not have been kind to her upon waking up, or at any point afterwards, but Anne did not want to mourn Lina's death again.  No matter what had happened between them in this life or in the last, Anne still saw Lina as a friend.</p>
<p>	She didn't tell us, at the time, that she had started getting her memories back by the time that 7th of January rolled around.  If anything, recalling the events leading up to her beheading made Anne feel responsible for Lina's death, as if heartache alone had caused her cancer.</p>
<p>	Heartache that Henry had caused; not Anne.  But I don't believe she ever stopped blaming herself, and to be honest I think she well carry that weight with her to the grave.</p>
<p>	For the record, Lina doesn't blame her anymore, obviously.  She hasn't in years.  The only person placing that responsibility on Anne is herself.</p>
<p>	When Jane saw that Anne was pacing the room frantically talking to herself she froze.  All attempts at getting through to her had resulted in Anne retreating further into herself, so Jane quietly asked one of us to check up on her.  </p>
<p>	Anna couldn't be bothered, I could not bear to look in Anne's general direction.  It was Katherine who took initiative.  While she tried reaching out to her cousin and communicating with her, Anna, Jane and I decided it was best to call a doctor.  During our brief conversation Lina had fallen quiet and limp.  Her brow was furrowed.</p>
<p>	I doubted it was a medical emergency because she did not have a fever, I had checked when I tried to wake her.  However, that something was up with my godmother was unarguable, and so I too agreed.  Anna returned to her room to get her phone and call 999.</p>
<p>	We did not need to.  Minutes after Lina closed her eyes she opened them again, just as Anna was dialing.  And when she awoke, Lina was already asking why we were there, grounded in the present.</p>
<p>	I would have expected her to be cross at us for walking into her room uninvited, but she was disoriented.  She described the experience as 'dying again'.  The following morning Anne would point out that it made sense, that January 7th was when Lina had died.  But at that moment, upon seeing her old friend awake and well, she left the room, not wanting to enrage her or cause her any distress.  Katherine followed her, but came back shortly after.  Anne wanted to be alone and there was nothing she could do.</p>
<p>	Anne's history with the Howards is complicated.  She'd been exploited by them, manipulated and used.  She wasn't about to trust any person related to her like the flip of a switch; let alone when she was feeling so vulnerable.</p>
<p>	After Lina woke up and we made sure she was safe, Jane, Anna and Kitty returned to their rooms.  I was going to, too; but Lina asked me to stay.  She said she didn't know why I was so determined to avoid her after the day we woke up, and that given that she was not going to be able to sleep again that night and she knew I stayed up until dawn regardless, it was as good as any other moment to talk about it.</p>
<p>	I was exhausted, Mae.  Unscripted, unplanned events suck the life out of me.  I was closing up, but I couldn't just leave Lina like that after what I'd seen.  I went through what I now know was a non-verbal episode by forcing myself to stay.  I wanted to ease Lina's pain and wound up distressing myself.</p>
<p>	Such was my turmoil that I considered typing what was going on to Lina.  That I didn't know what it was, or why it happened; but ever since waking up when I got very stressed out I found myself unable to speak.  However my hands were shaking so much there was no realistic way for me to do that.  I needed to get back to my room and calm down, but Lina would not let me.  She was fussing over me, concerned, asking why I was crying.  I wasn't aware I was crying, every sense in my body was just wrong.  Lina's voice was too loud, her touch felt like tingly, her night light was somehow burning my eyes...</p>
<p>	I've explained what sensory overload feels like to you already, and you're a smart girl.  There's no need for me to go into specifics; I am certain you understand what it was like.  At least in theory.</p>
<p>	I don't remember how I got to my room after that.  Lina told me she escorted me back.  I also don't have a concept of what my meltdowns look like from an outside perspective. I've seen Anne's; but they're different from mine.  I can get an idea, though.  And I understand why Lina wanted to talk to me about it the following morning, after I slept well past midday.</p>
<p>	While I was asleep, the others were awake.  It was a work day and I, as a free-lance journalist, was the only one who had the privilege of working at whichever time I saw fit.  As long as my articles were turned in on time nobody cared when I worked.  Lina had to call in sick to the school, however.  Death days are exhausting, even when the episode is over the entire day is hell.</p>
<p>	I had not been home alone with anyone yet.  Everyone was away at work (or school in Kitty's case) for more or less eight hours a day.  I was either alone or with most everyone, assuming someone had wanted to postpone returning to our house as much as possible.</p>
<p>	It was something we used to do a lot, my girl.  Go out on spontaneous walks around London to see how much it had changed and how bizarrely familiar we were with its new streets.  Whether we did so out of curiosity or an urge to stay away from the hellhole that was our house is another conversation on its own.</p>
<p>	Despite her disagreement with Lina's way of treating Anne, Jane had prepared lunch for her so she wouldn't have to exert herself.  Lina was in the kitchen when I went downstairs to make my own lunch.  I asked if she was better and she said 'yes'.  She could not explain what had happened, either.  But she had the nagging suspicion it was a side effect of reincarnation; a punishment for being where she should not be.  Among the living.</p>
<p>	That was the first time we wondered if this would happen to all of us.  We did not have to wonder for much longer until we received confirmation, just a little over a month.</p>
<p>	After Lina and I were done with lunch she was still talking.  She had been ailing for weeks when she passed, she said.  She fell asleep in pain and then woke up in her bedroom in this century.  My experience was similar, in a sense. Except I was also confused when I died.</p>
<p>	Eventually your auntie asked me what had happened the previous night.  It was the first time I discussed non-verbal episodes with someone, or meltdowns.  Granted, I didn't have the vocabulary to explain it so simply back then.  All I could say was that my head didn't quite function in this life like it had in my past one.</p>
<p>	There was nothing Lina could think of saying other than suggesting I see a doctor.  However, we both were (and still are, to a degree) averse to doctors, hospitals and anything related to illnesses.  I brought up that maybe she should see a doctor too, for whatever it was that had happened the previous night.</p>
<p>	We both declined the other's idea and agreed that visiting doctors was not something we would do unless absolutely necessary.</p>
<p>	I find it very interesting, how phobias work.  One would think we would be bordering on addicted to modern medicine and regular check-ups, given how we died.  That we would not wait for things to get bad before we got a medical professional involved.  And still we were, and are to this day, opposed to the idea of stepping foot into a clinic unless we must.   </p>
<p>	We got better with handling doctors with time; and so did Jane and Anna.  We started to go when we needed to rather than when we felt like we were on our death beds again. But that would take practice and a learning curve.   </p>
<p>	Eventually Lina brought the question up again, why I avoided her.  I told her I hadn't taken kindly to her statement regarding my marriage and she did something I really was not expecting.  She apologized.</p>
<p>	You know your auntie, you know how proud she is.  And by the time you met her she had already gotten so much better at accepting mistakes and admitting to them.  She wasn't Jane-levels of proud, but she was much prouder than she is even now.</p>
<p>	She apologized because she, too, had been forced to marry.  She apologized because she had memories of me as a baby and would never hurt me on purpose.  She apologized and her words were honest, she meant them.</p>
<p>	And still, her apology did not have an effect on me.</p>
<p>	Don't get me wrong, I appreciated that she was willing to own up to her words instead of coming up with some excuse.  But the damage was done, she couldn't undo it that easily.  It would take me some time to truly forgive her, but something definitely changed between us after that conversation.  I didn't feel the urge to leave any room she was in, she greeted me less curtly than before.  Little by little we started holding menial conversations.   </p>
<p>	Lina caught on soon to the fact that I am not good at making small talk or initiating conversations. Instead of berating me for it, however, she filled the silence herself and asked if I wanted to add something, or asked me questions to get me involved.  In a matter of weeks, thanks to her patience and understanding, I didn't feel as alone anymore.  Maybe she wasn't my friend, but at the very least she didn't hate me.  And I didn't hate her, either.  It was a pleasant feeling, a nice break from feeling flanked by enemies on all sides.</p>
<p>	Eventually Lina started coming to wake me when I was having a nightmare, and although it took me a bit longer than her, I started returning the favour.  Many years later she would admit that, after having been mostly alone and a prisoner for seven years, she is actually terrified of loneliness.  She started conversing with me out of a need to keep the loneliness at bay.  She thought that counted as using me; but if that's the case I was using her as well.  I was still angry at her when I stopped pushing her away because I, too, was lonely.  I need some sense of familiarity in that house, Mae, a reference point.</p>
<p>	Neither Lina nor I are manipulative people, however.  I don't think needing company counts as using someone, but I have not been able to change your auntie's mind as of today.  We simply started a relationship out of a mutual need, and grew to care for each other gradually after that.</p>
<p>	We had barely, just barely started keeping the other company for a short while after nightmares when the second death day came.  February 13th, Katherine Howard was beheaded.</p>
<p>	Lina's death day had been a scare; but she died close enough to midnight that the episode lasted for around forty minutes.  Katherine was beheaded at 7 AM.  Until then, the poor child would have to remain trapped in the Tower of London within the confines of her mind.</p>
<p>	The thing to wake us was her voice, confident and sure, asking for a block.  It must have taken the guards a while to bring her one, because she called for quite some time.  Anna was in her room first, but just like with Lina the rest of us eventually came as well.  It wasn't normal.  Not to mention, Katherine had not uttered a sound of nightly distress up to that moment.</p>
<p>	Anna turned to us pale, terrified. Her eyes were wide and her brow scrunched.  “I can't wake her up. She thinks she's in the Tower”, she said.  At the mere mention of the Tower Anne tensed.  As Anna rushed to call 999 again, Lina and I pitched our theory that this was something we would all go through. A punishment, as Lina called it.  And who knows?  Maybe death days are punishments.  Maybe we were never meant to walk the earth again, but rather rest beneath it.  Maybe our new lives came with a price.</p>
<p>	The idea of standing idly by did not please Anna.  However, when the invisible guard finally came and brought Katherine the block, even in her panicked state Anna realized these hallucinations were not something any doctor could fix.</p>
<p>	We did not know what she wanted a block for, or what sort of block it was for that matter.  We had not started delving into our past lives yet, still getting used to our new ones; let alone those of the others.</p>
<p>	Katherine knelt and started reciting a series of instructions to herself.  How to kneel, how to bend at the waist, how to lean her head appropriately.</p>
<p>	The moment it hit us, what she was doing, the shock was tangible.  She was practicing how to die correctly, regally.  She would stand, do her speech by heart, then kneel, bend and bow her head.</p>
<p>	Over.  And over.  And over.</p>
<p>	Her voice did not waver, her hands did not shake.  She rehearsed as if it were for a play and not for a very much real event she would be the protagonist of.</p>
<p>	Anna was crying.  No matter what had happened or what argument had taken place nobody had seen Anna cry until then.  She asked so many times why Katherine would do that; why she felt the need to agonize like that in her final hours.  Jane and Lina couldn't watch after a while, I must say the spectacle was quite grotesque.  Here we had a fourteen year-old child rehearsing her death, instructing herself and motivating herself to go through with it honourably.</p>
<p>	As for Anne, she was entranced, mesmerized.  She couldn't tear her gaze away.  She touched her own neck gingerly and observed.  Later on she would confide that, while horrified, she was also impressed.  Her own last hours at the Tower hadn't been as calm and collected.  She wondered how this girl, who must have died a child if she was this young, had managed to remain tranquil all night long.</p>
<p>	I did not want to watch, but I felt obliged to.  After all, I had watched Katherine's execution.  I had gone there and felt nothing other than repulsion as she was murdered. This behaviour, this maturity beyond her years, was not what I had imagined she would possess.  All I heard about was how she had been some ditzy, power-hungry child that had tried to seduce any and every man in sight.</p>
<p>	It's fair if you're wondering how I believed, under any circumstance, that those were normal, reasonable thoughts to have.  But do understand, my girl, that I myself was forced to marry at seventeen.  The concept we had of a minor back then was not the same as the one we have today.  And while I should have still done better, that was my frame of mind.</p>
<p>	I must admit her behaviour made me curious.  Maybe I had misjudged her.  Maybe she wasn't what the courtiers and Henry had made her out to be after her death.   </p>
<p>	Then again, are any of us what historians and our contemporary men made of us?</p>
<p>	Eventually she fell flat on her face, no longer able to hold herself up while leaning on a block that was not there.  She got up and rehearsed her monologue again.  She could not feel the swelling of her cheek or the blood dripping down her nose.  Anna tried holding her, but Anne stopped her.  Maybe if she fell she'd snap out of it, at least.</p>
<p>	We let her fall twice more.  It did nothing.  Anna tried restraining her, it did not work.  Whichever supernatural force brought us back to life kept giving Katherine the strength to continue bending down.  There is no other explanation other than an occult one for this, since there is no way that Katherine would have been able to wrestle her way out of Anna's hold.</p>
<p>	The only thing we could do was get her a nearby footrest to lean against so she wouldn't fall again.</p>
<p>	Anne and I swapped out with Jane and Lina when they came to ask how it was going.  We needed a breather, but leaving Katherine alone didn't feel right, either.  There was something so wrong with her behaviour, with her preparation for death.  She was almost celebrating the fact that she was going to pass, anticipating it.  Anna was the only one who didn't take turns, who stayed there and watched the entire scene play out.  The rest of us could not take it.  We swapped out several times over the course of the four and a half hours Katherine was awake practicing how to die.</p>
<p>	We had small conversations in groups for the first time since Lina's death day.  Again, we could not simply ignore Katherine's suffering.  Even if the only words we could exchange were those of concern and curiosity, it was better than nothing.</p>
<p>	At four thirty Kitty got up, fixed the wrinkles in the long dress she wasn't wearing, and went to bed. Jane wondered if that was the end of it, but Lina and I were certain she wouldn't be able to wake from that living nightmare until her head came off her shoulders.</p>
<p>	We all returned to our bedrooms except for Anna, who stayed by Kitty's side.  Despite our best attempts, no sleeping was done that night.  Eventually Lina joined me in my room.  She had gotten sick to the stomach, something of a visceral reaction to seeing a fourteen year-old preparing herself for death.</p>
<p>	I think that was possibly the first time she considered Henry may not have been as good as she made him out to be.  After all, what sort of demon would sentence a child to death?</p>
<p>	I did not mind the company.  Even if we barely spoke in hushed whispers, it was better than being trapped alone with my thoughts.  Heaven knows no amount of typed words would have gotten the image of Katherine kneeling repeatedly out of my retinas.  Or, even worse, the anticipation out of my racing heart.</p>
<p>	The only people who knew to what degree her execution had failed were Anna and I.  The others were expecting something mild.</p>
<p>	At six those of us who weren't already there gathered at Katherine's door.  She rose to her feet, again straightening out whichever gown she thought she was wearing, and stared blankly ahead.   </p>
<p>	“What a beautiful morning” she said, ever so softly.  “A perfect day to die.”</p>
<p>	And then she smiled.</p>
<p>	The acceptance with which she handled her death was, and is to this day, unsettling.  Do you remember when we were browsing movies on HBO and you saw that cover (I forget the movie's name, sorry) that disturbed you?  The more you regarded it the harder it was to tell why, there was something just wrong with it.  Eventually you figured out that that which was creeping you out was that the shadow did not match the protagonist's pose.  Do you remember that general unease until you figured it out?  I guess that's as best as I can describe what I was feeling while witnessing the final moments of Kitty's first life.</p>
<p>	I'm sorry to break the flow, but I can't help but wonder if several years from today you will remember that one afternoon you got scared by a movie cover when you were six years old.  It's jarring that it is one of my final memories of you and it may be such a mundane one for you when you read this that it will have been long forgotten.  I am aware that that could happen, but it still feels rather strange.  Such a menial memory is so precious to me, and to you it could fade away into oblivion.</p>
<p>	Forgive me for derailing so often. Do understand, however, that writing my good bye to you is a task harder than I could have ever envisioned, my love.  As much as I am trying to tell a coherent story I cannot ignore the ache in my chest that these are my final words to you.</p>
<p>	Back to the 13th of February, 2020, I felt unsettled at Katherine's acceptance.  It must have been the general sensation, everyone looked horrified.  I may not be the best at reading people; but there are only so many interpretations one can give to wide eyes, frowns and balled fists. Anne's reaction was the worst, hands flying to her hair as she pulled on it with force.  But Anna's was the most heartbreaking.  For many years after Katherine's death she had wondered what her most beloved friend had felt during her final hours.  Had she felt lonely?  Had she missed Anna?  Did she even know that Anna was not allowed to see her; and not that she hadn't cared to visit?</p>
<p>	The scene she had never imagined was the one playing before us.  Katherine was grateful for her death, smiling at the prospect.</p>
<p>	It would take us several months to hear from Katherine herself why she had been so serene on her death day.  It took me mere hours, since one of the very first things I googled about the past were the circumstances surrounding Kitty's death.  Unethical, I agree, but I needed to know.  I needed to know that there was some twisted reason for her to be thankful for the release of death at seventeen.  I needed to know that I had not been indifferent, cold-hearted and outright cruel to an innocent child.  I did not want to carry any more guilt, I was already drowning in guilt regarding Lizzie.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>	Of course, I had to feel the guilt. As I've stated multiple times and cannot stress enough, my actions towards Katherine were inexcusable.  I do not wish to garner sympathy from you, my princess.  I just want to explain the events as they happened and why.</p>
<p>	Moving on, I won't go into details, since those pertain to Katherine's private life and there's a chance you already know them, anyway.  Essentially, my dear girl was given a choice: to accept one of her abusers had married her in secret and live with him for the rest of her days; or to be beheaded.  All things considered, she refused to admit the affair had been consensual.  If her life had to be bound to his, then she chose not to have a life at all.  It was devastating and cruel, but she chose her own fate.  She was not some stupid, brainless child manipulated by those around her.  In a way she was manipulated, yes, her trust was exploited in the most heinous of manners too many times.  But in the end she took the reigns of her own life.  She took control over the one thing she could.</p>
<p>	Then again, none of us knew that as we watched her talk to invisible Ladies in Waiting who helped her get dressed.  She made dry, off-hand and tasteless remarks about how it was pointless to wear such a nice gown just to get it smeared in blood.  By her reaction, her Ladies seemed to have found the same amount of humor in her words as we did.  That being none whatsoever.</p>
<p>	We didn't really know what to expect once the guards came for her.  Would she try to walk and inevitably fall downstairs?  Would she walk into a wall indefinitely if she was following a certain path?</p>
<p>	Instead Katherine walked on the spot, not moving an inch from where she was.  Her legs did all the motions of walking, but she did not budge.  Anne let out a nervous chuckle, glad to know that she would not be injuring herself with arbitrary walking patterns when her death day came.</p>
<p>	Humor is how your auntie copes.  What at the time we all saw as disrespectful and inappropriate was actually masked fear, sympathy and devastation.  She may not have known Katherine, or have grown close to her at that time.  But she knew the bone-deep despair the Tower of London exposes a person to. Her mind was whirring with theories as to why her cousin was relieved to be there; let alone to be heading to her final destination.  Every hypothesis got darker and darker.</p>
<p>	I have not been able to forget even the slightest detail of how Katherine's body shook as she had to practically be forced up the scaffold.  Once she was there, however, onlooking the invisible crowd of people cursing her and cheering for her demise, she took a deep breath and gave her speech flawlessly. When I first saw her trembling in our first life I thought she was pathetic.  She had to take punishment for her actions.  That second time, however, in her sunlit room, all I felt was pain.  She was afraid, deep down.  She was suffering.</p>
<p>	And yet she died honourably.</p>
<p>	As she knelt before the block my gut twisted.  It still does thinking about it.  I tried making eye contact with Anna, I wanted some reassurance that the whole scene would not take place.  But her reddened, teary eyes were trained on Kitty.</p>
<p>	She took her final deep breath, and then she screamed.  The exact same ear-piercing wail she let out the first time, when the axe lodged itself in her shoulder.  Her entire upper body shook as if it had taken an actual blow, and little dots of blood lined her pyjama top where the wound was.</p>
<p>	“Why is she screaming?” Anne said, her hands tangled in her hair.  “What the hell happened to her?!”</p>
<p>	Of course, the screams didn't stop. They would not stop until Katherine passed out from the pain several minutes later.  The axe was stuck inside her for almost an hour.  Her body convulsed as it would as the executioner (though that may be too high of a title.  'Butcher' would be more appropriate) tried to get his axe out.   </p>
<p>	Anne was panicking, her eyes seemed to be about to pop out of their sockets as she watched in horror. She had felt the burning pain of a sword for a split second before dying.  The prospect of feeling that for minutes made her nauseous. Quite literally, she had to run to the bathroom.</p>
<p>	I went with her.  I could not carry on watching Katherine, either.  It brought back too many memories and I honestly could not tell at the time what aspect of them disturbed me more: the metallic scent of blood or my indifference towards the heinous crime.</p>
<p>	Two stories took place from that point forwards: me and Anne in the bathroom; and Anna, Jane and Lina in Kitty's room.</p>
<p>	Anne asked me what had happened during her cousin's execution.  I did not want to tell her and make her remember her own execution; but she insisted time and time again she needed to know.  If there was another Howard that, like her, had been exploited, used and discarded, she had to know.  If that Howard was her baby cousin, a literal child, even more so.</p>
<p>	You know how different written and spoken words are for me.  Written, when I have time to meditate what I am saying or what I am reading, words are the most natural form of communication.  Spoken, when I have no time to think and so many factors like body language and intonation come into play, I find all words to be foreign.  Even those of languages I have mastered.</p>
<p>	The only reason I did not break down was because I had already been expecting Katherine's death day to be hellacious.  How could I not, after witnessing the actual event?  And still the explanation Anne demanded got caught somewhere in my vocal cords.  I barely managed to get out simple ideas: Henry had not bothered hiring a professional, he had to make up a law to make executing her legal, he also had not bothered attending the event, his executioner was an incompetent fool, and after the shoulder incident it still took him five blows to behead her.  Of which she was conscious during three.</p>
<p>	I cannot describe the flurry of emotions on Anne's face.  She was looking at the floor, not at me, which made observing her easier.  In the end she held her head between both her hands.</p>
<p>	“Sick bastard” was the most clear sentence she got out.  Everything else came out rushed and garbled. The gist of it, however, was that the Howards deserved to rot in hell and so did she for not making reincarnation easier for a girl whose end had been so similar to Anne's.  She should have been there for her; not antagonizing her.  They were both pawns in the greater Howard scheme; the least Anne could have done upon waking up was taking care of her cousin.  What would she not have given to have someone care for her when she was the one being manipulated and exploited?</p>
<p>	It's another thing I don't think our Annie ever stopped blaming herself for.  From that day forwards every time she regarded Kitty there was a shadow of guilt in her eyes.</p>
<p>	Meanwhile, another set of screams was coming from Katherine's room.  Not her own; she had fallen into uneven breaths and body spasms after the pain deprived her of her consciousness.  No, the person yelling was Anna.</p>
<p>	Specifically she was screaming at Lina and Jane.  The story that was told was a bit unclear; the three people involved were experiencing a variety of very strong emotions and the events were mixed in the aftermath.  The lowdown, however, is that either Jane or Lina said something sympathetic regarding Katherine and that was Anna's breaking point.</p>
<p>	How dare they?  For two months they had made it known, in the sparse interactions that had taken place, that they loved Henry.  Lina by calling everyone 'godless heretics' for 'going against God's will and seducing her poor Henry' on the night we woke up; and Jane by saying that those who came after her 'did not deserve his love and affection' and had been 'bad replacements for her unable to love him.'  No matter how many times Anne, Anna or Kitty insisted Henry was not a good person, Lina and Jane had remained loyal to his memory.  And now they were pitying Katherine?</p>
<p>	Anna's feelings towards Henry were searing, and not just for Kitty's execution.  She has so many reasons to despise him, but she was not yet ready to be that open and honest with us.  Instead, she vented all the frustrations she'd been harbouring towards Lina and Jane using Katherine's beheading as an outlet.  They had no right to feel anything but shame for having defended a cruel, vile man capable of making up a law to make executing a young girl legal.</p>
<p>	I don't think your mother was that clear and concise.  Knowing her and how flustered she gets when irate I can only imagine the mess of a monologue she must have delivered.  But the point got across.  Lina and Jane never made a positive comment about Henry again.  Not because their love for him died immediately after; feelings so deep cannot vanish in a single day.  Their distaste, or outright hatred towards Henry, would appear later, as they came to terms with the abuse both of them had suffered and heard the rest of our stories.  But even with the affection they still felt towards him that morning they could not help but be absolutely repulsed by his actions in murdering a girl.</p>
<p>	Needless to say, the relationship between Anna, and Jane and Lina was very tense from that point onwards.   </p>
<p>	Anne and I stayed in the bathroom. She had not stood up since she had been sick and I had not sat down. We weren't speaking, but neither of us were eager about being alone or even worse: returning to the bedroom where the fight was taking place.   </p>
<p>	When Katherine's first shriek of agony was heard, however, Anne sprung to her feet.  She needed to see, she said.  I told her she would regret it; that it had been a particularly brutal scene.  Anne insisted she wanted to be there the second her cousin snapped out of it.  She may have been suboptimal towards her up to that morning; but she was determined to be the sort of person she wished she'd had growing up for her cousin.</p>
<p>	I did not want to go back myself.  I don't even know why I did.  I guess it was captivating in the manner a trainwreck may be.  Somehow hearing Katherine's heart-wrenching wails from afar was worse than seeing it.  After all, if I was seeing her, I was aware that we were in the present; not in XVIth century England.  But if all I did was hear the same screams I heard the day of her execution it was far too easy for my mind to try trapping me back there.  I could almost hear the crowd cheering, feel the sun on my skin and the weight of my dress.</p>
<p>	I returned to the room last.  The thing about beheading someone with an axe is that it is not as fine or precise a weapon as a sword.  Two strikes in the exact same place were required for Katherine's head to come off.  The beast that Henry had hired failed to do that thrice.   </p>
<p>	When I entered her room the visions of her execution faded.  She was screaming here, in her bedroom. There was no actual executioner behind her.  Little droplets of blood lined the back of her neck, her scars had opened up a little like the one on her back had.  Jane, Anne and Lina were stood behind her; but Anna was right in front of her.  I must say I let curiosity get the best of me at that moment and so I joined her.  What was she trying to see?</p>
<p>	Katherine's neck convulsed as if the axe were being pulled out of her flesh and she let out a high pitched whine.  Her eyes, glazed over, looked around in front of herself, most definitely seeing a crowd and not Anna and I.  Suddenly, her face contorted with a spark of recognition.  She kept her gaze fixed on one specific point, as if she were looking at someone she knew. She managed a weak, pitiful smile and whispered something.</p>
<p>	“Thank you.”</p>
<p>	Immediately after, the third and final scream Katherine Howard produced five centuries prior echoed through the house.  At the same time, Anna sighed, wiping her cheeks. “So that's what you said”  she muttered, brushing Kitty's hair. “Why did you thank me?”</p>
<p>	Her neck jerked twice more, with each blow a little bit of blood showing on her skin.  After the second one her head...  I have a hard time finding the right words.  Anne's head would do the same three months later, on her death day; and both would continue to do so throughout the years.  It simply twitched in a way no head firmly attached to a body should be able to.  Until she sprung into a kneeling position gasping for air I feared her neck had snapped.</p>
<p>	With a high-pitched inhale, Kitty jolted herself back into the present.  She didn't look around as her shoulders heaved with heavy, breathy, whistling gasps.  She stared at Anna and lifted her arms, her muscles shaking from the effort.  Anna did not need any more indicators.  She shoved past me and sank on the floor with her, whispering reassurances into her ear as she kept her in a protective embrace.</p>
<p>	It felt as if I was witnessing something private, something that wasn't meant for my eyes.  Anna had not let anyone see her cry once, and Katherine had not shown any public signs of vulnerability or distress.  The moment was theirs and theirs alone, so I left.  Lina and Jane followed; but Anna had to scream something unpleasant at Anne to get her to leave.  Apparently she wanted to comfort Kitty, too, but Katherine did not take too kindly to it.</p>
<p>	Anna called sick to work that day, she would not leave Kitty alone with me.  Lina and Anne were both late to their jobs and, while Jane was as well, since she took the time to leave something prepared for Anna and Kitty for lunch (she was kind enough to leave something for me as well this time), since she was her own boss she did not have any problems.</p>
<p>	Something changed after these two days, Mae, but especially after the second.  Lina's death day proved that we were capable of cooperating and that deep down, no matter what onslaught of horrid things we could tell each other when enraged, we were not willing to let the rest suffer.  On a smaller scale, it was the beginning of my friendship with Lina; the first step to overcome one of the many interpersonal hurdles we had forged.</p>
<p>	Auntie Kitty's death day marked the beginning of us coming together.  I don't think anybody thought she was a snotty brat who had bedded her way into royalty anymore.  The one of us with arguably one of the worst deaths, who had been plucked from life a child, was the most cordial.   </p>
<p>	After learning the truth about her cousin's death, Anne would try to form a relationship with her.  Lina and Jane started to consider that maybe Henry was not the saint they thought him to be.  Anna had let her feelings out in an outburst for the first time, another big step for her.</p>
<p>	As for myself, I would say I experienced two big changes: following my (intrusive) investigation regarding why Katherine had craved death to the point of celebrating it I could not help but regret every rude stare and cruel word I had directed her way.  I needed to do something to compensate, but what? How does one undo the harm she has already inflicted?   </p>
<p>	Of course, you know well that your auntie did forgive me; everyone did including Anna.  But regarding whether I forgive myself, I honestly think I cannot.  My attempts at apologizing to Kitty would lead to a retrospectively hilarious incident we later dubbed “the pancake affair”; but that story which brings a smile to my lips is for later.</p>
<p>	The second thing that changed was that I had conversed with Anne.  Out of despair, out of a double-sided urge to keep the horror of Katherine's death away.  But after that interaction with her she no longer avoided me.  That she approached me or greeted me in the hallway with something other than indifference hurt, though.  I did not deserve any form of niceness from her.  Not after what I did to her poor daughter.</p>
<p>	The only person who did not get anything positive from that death day, ironically enough, was Katherine herself.  She did not gain any insight, she did not build new connections (her relationship with Anne would be harder to solidify than Anne's sudden change in attitude; Katherine did not trust fellow Howards, either).  The one thing she obtained from that was a memory; the first one of many she would continue to regain in the following weeks.  And, once she did, it would all go downhill for her from there.  That death day opened up Pandora's box for Katherine.  If she was already miserable and unhappy before it, her misfortunes would double after remembering the life she had lived. Misfortunes that no amount of therapy or love would ever take away. At least not fully.</p>
<p>	I said earlier that we formed a family with a lot of persistence from auntie Kitty and that much is true.  Just know moving forwards that I do not mean this event.  Yes, her death day indirectly brought us closer together; but then again so did auntie Lina's.  These were the first steps in opening up doors that would later lead to the conversations necessary to start growing to care for one another.  Just keep that in mind as we continue.</p>
<p>	Death days aside, your aunties, your mother and I have agreed that we suffered six individual crises.  We had many more throughout the years, obviously, but these first six were important on either personal levels to accept and come to terms with our lives new and old; or on a group scale in bringing us closer together.</p>
<p>	The first of those came almost immediately after auntie Kitty's death day; and was also indirectly caused by it.  The first person to go through a major crisis was no other than your auntie Lina.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for your time!!  Have a good day!!  Feel free to let me know your thoughts!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Stability</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi!!  Sorry for the long wait but this chapter wound up being longer than expected.  Thank you so much to everyone who read, left kudos or commented!!  It really means a lot ^^</p><p>This chapter was supposed to be out on Saturday but since it's my birthday i decided to indulge myself and finish and proof-read this instead (now i have to finish an essay in less than an hour, i'm not sure this was a good life choice but it's one i enjoyed just the same)</p><p>I have a tumblr in case anyone's interested in updates to this fic, the occasional fanart and other random stuff (not very active there, if anyone wanted updates on chapter releases and progress i  would mainly use it for that).  @mildlyexhaustednecromancer08, like my username here</p><p>So without further ado, the CWs for this chapter:</p><p>-Anxiety Disorder (heavily discussed)<br/>-Anxiety attacks (one prominent one that leads to hospitalization)<br/>-PTSD (just mentioned)<br/>-Hospitalization and hospital stays (just a night in Observation, nothing severe)<br/>-Guilt.  So much guilt<br/>-Lightly referenced self-harm (as in, one single line alluding to it)<br/>-Fasting (not heavily depicted, just mentioned)<br/>-Implied eating disorders/unhealthy relationships with food<br/>-The Bessie Blount affair (grooming and pedophilia, again not descriptive but mentioned multiple times)<br/>-Phantom pains<br/>-Dissociation<br/>-Mentioned hEDS (Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome type 3 - Hypermobile type)<br/>-Minor meltdown</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A lot of things changed after auntie Kitty's death day.  Hostilities towards her vanished overnight, we tried not to argue in front of her or make her feel unsafe.  A general sense of civility, if only a forced and fake one, took over.  If there was someone we did not wish to share a room with we fell into the habit of simply leaving that room.  The default earlier, in case you were wondering, was trying to make the other person uncomfortable to the point of making her leave.</p><p>	Not our best moments.</p><p>	At least if Katherine was around we all tried to keep the ambiance calm.  I did not know it at that time, and would not find out until four months passed, but I had not been the only one to be overtly rude to Katherine.  While at the time I thought the others had limited their disliking of the Howards to passive-aggressive comments and rude stares, it turned out that by Kitty's death day Lina, Anne and Jane had said things to her equally regrettable than those I had.</p><p>	Bear with me, this is about auntie Lina, but I need you to understand how the situation came to be.</p><p>	Anna and Kitty could not be together at all times, no matter how hard they tried.  There were times, inevitably, when Katherine was alone.  During one of those the girl had walked into the kitchen for a snack and accidentally stumbled into a raging argument between Lina and Anne.  What caused Anne to say the following I do not know; from what I was told Katherine took no part in the quarrel and tried to get in and out as quickly as possible.  Whichever the reason, Anne wound up implying that, unlike her own, Katherine's beheading had not been the result of years of manipulation and trauma.</p><p>	A lie indeed, and yet another splinter Anne never managed to pull from her heart.  However, that was far from the worst thing that had been thrown Kitty's way.  At some other moment Jane told her, word for word, that nobody had cared when Katherine died.  As you might understand, after getting slapped across the face with the nightmare-inducing death day Katherine suffered, there was little Jane, Anne and myself were unwilling to do to try compensating the harm we had caused.</p><p>	However, as I said, auntie Lina was no saint in this affair, either.  One afternoon, when coming back from school, she and Katherine met at the door.  It was a rare occurrence, since teachers usually leave later than students.  On that particular day Katherine decided to postpone returning home and wandered the streets for a few hours after class.  When Kitty tried to exchange a simple greeting with Lina your auntie instructed her rather sharply never to speak to her unprompted.  She called her something along the lines of 'the least relevant Katherine.'</p><p>	Now, these three events hurt your auntie Kitty deeply.  Much, much deeper than she ever cared to admit.  They tore into her mercilessly, leaving yet more scar tissue on her heart (and, as we would find out too late, on her arms).  But this is not about her, it is about Lina.</p><p>	Specifically, how we discovered she has anxiety.</p><p>	Can you imagine how auntie Lina felt after Katherine's death day?  As I said, there was a collective aura of regret.  But you know how genuinely caring auntie Lina is.  She is one of the most fiercely protective people I know.</p><p>	But, as we discussed before, she is also wildly loyal.  And up until that February the 13th she had not considered that Henry was a bastard.  The before and after for her was not marked only by regret caused by being unjustifiably horrible to a child; but by starting to consider herself a monster.</p><p>	Regardless of how little she knew Katherine and how little she cared about a girl she barely knew, it is an undeniable, objective fact that beheading a child is a heinous act.  For nights after Katherine's death day Lina lay awake at night forcing herself to remember.  Had Henry ever done or said anything that could have clued her in to the fact he was heartless?  </p><p>	For a short while Lina found respite.  No, there was nothing he had done.  Granted he had several affairs, but that, in her mind, was her own fault for not giving him the heir he needed.  Her peace did not last, however, for two reasons: research, and Bessie Blount.</p><p>	It was a random conversation with a co-worker in the teachers' lounge that made Lina question everything she was convinced she knew.  She was speaking to a biology teacher during lunch break and her acquaintance was venting about how frustrated one specific class made her.</p><p>	“Can you believe it?” she asked, waving a test laced in red ink in Lina's face.  “She's in 9th grade and she's still caught up on this!  And goodness, if it were only her I wouldn't be so pissed!  It's the whole damn class!  Like, gals!  We went over this two weeks ago are you all brain dead?”</p><p>	It was question six that stood out to Lina.  When she told us this story much later she explained that the entire world seemed to go out of focus for a second.  Her fellow teacher's voice sounded far away, as if she were under water.</p><p>	'06. Who is responsible for the baby's sex: the male or the female?'</p><p>	The answer that was crossed out in angry red scrawls was “the woman.”  It took all of Lina's self-control not to ask the woman before her, an expert in biology, if she was certain that was wrong.  It just had to be!  If it wasn't, then Henry's anger was not her fault.  And if it was not, then that would make her innocent and him cruel.  And how could she be innocent if she had loved a vile man who committed adultery out of no fault of hers?</p><p>	Not that Lina said any of this.  She is the one who to this day the hardest time expressing her emotions.  If it is difficult for her now that she has a loving wife and a family back in 2020 it was nigh impossible.  </p><p>	She stopped by the library on her way home that day.  She read every book on the human reproduction she could find.  Once she was done, she searched the web.  She was desperate to find something, anything that would make Henry blameless.  She could not, would not, admit she had loved a monster.  If she had, then she was a horrible person as well.  That could not be it.</p><p>	Granted, she found nothing.  Those with a male sex are the ones who determine the baby's sex, no exceptions.</p><p>	But still, Lina found a workaround: she did not know it was not her fault in our first life.  She could not possibly be to blame for being ignorant of a fact nobody knew about.  She had loved an adulterous man, yes; but neither he nor she could have known his thinking was flawed.  If anything, this new discovery made Lina happy for another brief time: there was nothing wrong with her, or her capability to bear children.  That Bessie Blount had had Henry's son was mere coincidence; not evidence that proved Lina was faulty.</p><p>	Her joy was incredibly short-lived.  Not a lot about her first life had crossed her mind since reincarnation.  As I said, knowing about life in theory is very different from experiencing it.  Lina knew her job, knew the Religion curriculum and how to teach it, but it was...  How to put it best?  Oh, I've got it: remember when you got Eddie's Bionicle because auntie Anne bought him one he already had by accident?  You read the instructions top to bottom and still struggled to put it together.  </p><p>	Not that you like that robot, anyway.  I, for one, have never seen you play with it.  I think the only reason you keep it is because Eddie gave it to you and you do not want to hurt his feelings.</p><p>	Well, on a much smaller scale, of course, that frustration and confusion were the ones we all experienced while trying to adjust to our new lives.  We had the instruction manual, so as to speak; but we lacked the actual experience.  It was the reason we were so enraptured by our current lives to even spare a thought to our old ones.</p><p>	That changed for all of us.  If anything, we would soon fall into an era of dwelling too much on our past lives.  But it changed for Lina first of all.  After that core-shaking revelation that Bessie's son proved nothing about Lina's ability to have children your auntie found herself thinking about her past life more and more.  About Bessie Blount and her son, more specifically.</p><p>	On the off-chance you do not know about Bessie Blount and Henry Fitzroy by the time you read this, I will summarize it for you: Bessie was Lina's Lady in Waiting (and later on Anna's as well).  She entered Lina's service at twelve.  A year later, while still a child, Henry (our common ex-husband; not the aforementioned Henry Fitzroy) began courting Bessie.  He was ten years older than her.  Did her parents protect her from the obvious abuse?  No, of course not.  They used their poor daughter as a stepping stone to obtain more power and the king's favour.</p><p>	At seventeen she had Henry's son, Henry Fitzroy, who Henry (the king.  This is getting confusing, I shall refer to Henry Fitzroy as Fitzroy from now on) used as proof that he was not to blame for his lack of an heir.  From then on he started blaming Lina, began looking into religious reasons to divorce her, and the rest is history.</p><p>	Back then Lina had not harboured any ill feelings towards Bessie.  She knew her Lady had not had a choice in becoming the king's lover (a nicety she would not have with Anne later on, when Lina saw her marriage actually threatened).  Lina also had not gotten angry at Henry.  She saw baby Fitzroy as the fruit of an unholy union and she most definitely felt hurt that Henry had a mistress; but that was the extent of her negative feelings.</p><p>	After Elizabeth Blount entered her thoughts again following the biology conversation, however, Lina's feelings changed.  How had her major concern about Henry's “affair” with Bessie been that Henry had cheated on her?  How had she not seen the worst problem, that her husband was a pedophile?</p><p>	The guilt ate away at Lina like termites, threatening to hollow her out and leave nothing but a void in her heart.  She had loved a child abuser.  She had loved someone who had groomed a thirteen year-old.  And, as much as she tried to recite those sentences in past tense, the ugly truth was that at the time she still loved him.  No matter how repulsive he grew in her eyes she could not stop loving him.</p><p>	As the days passed Lina's turmoil only got worse.  Bessie was a child in her court.  If her parents had not protected her then it should have been Lina herself looking out for the girl.  She may not have been particularly close to Bessie, but nothing excused having stood idly by as Henry groomed her.  Not only had she loved a monster; she was a monster herself.  </p><p>	What sort of person must she have been in her past life, she mulled over and over, to have been more concerned about her hurt feelings than a child who needed protection?</p><p>	Allow me to explain what sort of person she had been, Mae: she had been a girl who had been sent to a foreign country at fifteen to marry a man she did not know.  She had been a person who, like all women back then, had been raised to believe any girl who menstruated was a grown woman capable of being a wife and reproducing.  Lina did not see, back then, Bessie as a victim.  She saw Bessie going through what was “normal” and almost expected of a girl her age.</p><p>	Am I saying this justifies Lina's passivity?  Heavens, no.  I am saying that societal rules that go unquestioned for too long can be more blinding than staring directly at the sun.  Lina did not disregard Bessie out of cruelty or indifference towards her suffering.  She did not protect the girl because she did not even consider that she needed protection.  Protection from what?  Lina herself had been forcefully wed just two years older than Bessie.</p><p>	The Renaissance was very messed up, Mae.  Some times I am glad you did not have to grow up in it.</p><p>	Back to present-day Lina in March of 2020, she was not capable of seeing this on her own.  All she saw was that she was a selfish, barbaric monster who had been more preoccupied with her ego than a child's safety.  She had loved (still loved, no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise) a pedophile and failed to protect a young girl.  In her own eyes, Lina was worthless garbage.</p><p>	When Lina's feelings get out of hand she has heart palpitations.  It's part of her anxiety, it's why she was beta blockers prescribed.  But eight years ago your auntie was not familiar with the concept of “anxiety”.  She would get so, so worked up over her vilification of herself that she would have palpitations.  And her palpitations sparked something that I have not yet discussed with you, my dear girl: phantom pains.</p><p>	Some times your mother, your aunties and I experience pain that is unreal.  That pain is always linked to how we died.  For your auntie Lina it's heart pain, for Anne it's permanently contracted muscles in her neck and searing pain in her scar, for your mother it's abdominal cramps.  For auntie Kitty it was also contracted muscles; but they were not limited to just her neck and she also experienced migraines occasionally.  Auntie Jane had the same brand of phantom pains I have: cramps.  Not like Anna's, though.  We died in different ways despite the common denominator of the uterus being involved.  </p><p>	Anything from stress to a bad day can trigger phantom pains in us, to varying degrees of incapacitation.  Lina's heart was already bound to ache from palpitations.  The intense emotions that caused them made her suffering tenfold.</p><p>	For days she said nothing, convinced that one day she would die from heart failure once more.  She did not go to a doctor for two reasons: of course, her aversion to anything related to doctors and medicine; but even more so that time because she felt she did not deserve help.  She had failed to aid a young girl under her care, and so she deserved no assistance herself.  If she was to perish from cardiac arrest then so be it.</p><p> Why did she want her life, anyways?  Without Mary, without María, stuck in a house of people she did not get along with, lonely and full of guilt?  Did she even deserve a second chance?</p><p>	It must be hard to think of your tough auntie so vulnerable, right?  It feels strange even to me and I lived through her breakdown first hand.  Just writing these words I have the urge to get up and embrace her.  </p><p>	As her phantom pains got worse she locked herself in her room more and more often.  The others didn't bat an eyelash over it.  Anne and Kitty were struggling to find a footing in their attempted friendship, Jane still had not forgiven Lina for pushing Anne and Anna took the longest out of all of us to care about the others (or to admit it to herself, at least).  Kitty being the obvious exception.</p><p>	I was worried, yes.  Quite worried at that.  My concern about my godmother, who all of a sudden vanished from my life after we had just started getting along, was rather troubling.  I even started having issues writing.  My one source of comfort failed me as thoughts and theories for her sudden withdrawal flooded my mind uninvited.  I tried talking to her about it twice, but she insisted she was fine; just busy with finals.  I didn't quite believe that was all there was to it; but as you know I am not particularly good at helping people through spoken words.</p><p>	In the isolation of her room Lina's memories of the past became more and more haunting.  Those four walls asphyxiated her, reminding her too much in a manner too painful about her imprisonment after Arthur's death.  And yet that was the preferable option for her: alone she could double over in pain and emit as many (in her opinion) pathetic whimpers as she needed without attracting unwanted attention.</p><p>	Or, even worse: concern.  Lina was terrified somebody would get worried about her.  She did not feel like she deserved anyone's sympathy or pity.  Not after having failed to protect Bessie.  Not after having loved a repulsively evil man.</p><p>	Not as she still loved said man.  If she loved him what did that say of her?</p><p>	Thoughts left trapped in the dark confines of one's own mind fester like mould, Mae.  That's why your mother, aunties and I have always been so insistent about you sharing your feelings.  Of course, trusting the wrong person with your heart may also be dangerous; but what your auntie was doing was inherently destructive.  In her willing isolation she discovered something she would not have expected in any lifetime.</p><p>	She missed us.</p><p>	She did not miss the arguing, the screams, or the secrecy that reminded her so much of life in court.  But as I said, after Katherine's death day an aura of calm had replaced the hostility.  Lina missed interacting with people, even if it was only curt greetings.  She missed conversing with me most, as she'd tell me later.  It was during a power outage and we were home alone.  We lit candles on the kitchen table and our words got tangled until I somehow managed to pull the confession from her.  The flame danced in her eyes as she reached forward to grab me by the hand and tell me just how much my absence in her daily life had hurt.</p><p>	Derailing again.  Apologies, my girl.  I cannot help but reminisce the moments that have made this second life so precious and valuable to me.</p><p>	Your auntie was, and is I dare say, so terrified of loneliness that she even missed seeing us talk to each other.  Seeing Jane bump into me in the hallway and apologize, or seeing Anne and Katherine share their first awkward conversations about irrelevant things.  Lina missed second-hand interactions.</p><p>	In between the four walls of her bedroom, a hypothetical lightbulb flashed for her one day: the reason she had been given a second chance was to right her wrongs.  She had made a terrible mistake, yes.  But repentance is an acceptable way to find redemption.  All she had to do was be better, never put her own feelings in front of others' well-being again.</p><p>	She could not save Bessie Blount; but maybe there was someone else she could help.  Who Lina did not know, but she would try everything that came to mind: volunteering at womens' shelters, donating to orphanages...  Anything to be a good person.</p><p>	That frail hope that Lina had managed to craft after weeks of agonizing shattered the tattered remains of her heart pretty much the second she left her bedroom for the first time in days.  Upon stepping foot into the hall someone bumped into her and fell to the floor with a surprised squeak.</p><p>	When Lina bent down to utter her apologies and give Katherine a hand standing up, the girl scooted away from her, standing on her own and hurrying past Lina with a rushed apology of her own.</p><p>	Another example of why communication is key: auntie Kitty mistrusted Lina, quite comprehensibly; but that was not the reason she refused help.  As we found out three years ago, your auntie had hEDS, Ehlers-Danlons Syndrome type 3.  Even though the uglier symptoms were yet to manifest back then she already struggled with some minor ones, like balance and coordination.  It was not the first time she fell, and on one occasion while trying to let Anne help her stand she had accidentally pulled her cousin on top of herself.  That situation was already uncomfortable and awkward enough with Anne; Katherine did not want to experience it with Lina.</p><p>	Lina knew none of this, of course.  All Lina saw was that Katherine hated and feared her.  And like that, with such a ridiculous accident, Lina's hope vanished like smoke between her fingers.</p><p>	If the reason for her second chance was to be a better person then she had already failed.  How had she forgotten about the harm she had inflicted upon Katherine?  How, why, had she ever thought being anything other than kind and protective of a child was acceptable?  She was a thirty-five year-old adult, for crying out loud; she was twenty-one years older than Kitty!  </p><p>	And yet she had been incapable of showing compassion towards her for almost three months.  To boot, her change in demeanor had come from pity regarding her death and the suffering Henry had inflicted upon her; and not Lina realizing that there is no excuse for being cruel to a child.</p><p>	Lina locked herself in her room again.  If there even was a reason for her reincarnation she had failed.  And, if there wasn't, then why was she alive again?  Why did a monster like herself, who loved an evil man, get a second chance?</p><p>	Her words; not mine.  I am in no place to criticize anyone for being mean to Katherine after waking up without becoming a hypocrite.  And, for all my flaws, hypocrisy is not among them.</p><p>	Three times Lina tried and failed to see herself as a good person: trying to argue that Henry had not shown any signs of being a monster; then attempting justify his adultery with ignorance; and lastly making an effort to find a meaning to her new life.  All attempts crumbled and all that got left behind were the broken pieces of Lina's heart.</p><p>	It goes without saying that hopelessness mixed self-loathing and an anxiety disorder are the ingredients for a calamity.  It did not take long, after the arbitrary incident with Katherine in the hallway, for the girl in question to come to me.</p><p>	“I know you don't like me; but this isn't about me” she said one rainy day after everyone had gone to bed.  “It's about Miss Catalina.  Anne and I are worried, and I know you are, too.”</p><p>	She was tiny, Mae.  Some times when I remember her I find that the memories of her as a child override the memories of her as an adult.  Maybe it's because her adulthood was so short-lived.</p><p>	Or perhaps I desperately wanted her to have the childhood that had been seized from her.</p><p>	That was the first time Katherine and I conversed in my room after dark.  It would be far from the last, but neither of us knew it at the time.  She was tense, sitting so straight she seemed to have a metal rod inside her spine.  She told me how Lina had been looking grimmer and grimmer in school.  While at home she could hide away as much as she pleased, Katherine had three hours of Religion a week in which Lina could not shield herself.  </p><p>	She told Anna first, who found it hard to care for someone who loved Henry, and thus offered no help (initially.  Just you wait).  Then Katherine had gone to Anne.  Anne (who, keep in mind, was getting all her memories back and feeling worse by the day; but more on her crisis later) would have loved to help, but there were realistically no chances of Lina listening to her.  That left Jane and myself.  Jane and Lina were barely on speaking terms, and that ruled her out as well.</p><p>	“I'd talk to her myself, but she hates me” Katherine said, a smile so cold I cannot forget.  She had Anne's smile in that sense, the grin of people who had long ago embraced the fact that their mere existence was despised as a crowd jeered for their deaths.  “You hate me too, I know.  But as I said, Miss Catalina is hurting and you're the only one she'll listen to.”</p><p>	I wanted to say 'I don't hate you, I'm sorry I made you think I do and I'm so sorry I was cruel to you' so badly.  I wanted to let out every apology I had been forming in my head since February the 13th.  The words were building up in my chest and crushing my lungs, Mae, but they would not come out.  Perhaps if I'd known Katherine would come knocking on my door I could have prepared some basic guidelines to convey my feelings, but...  Oh well, surprises aren't my forte.  It was even worse back then.</p><p>	I did agree to talk to Lina.  Although I had already tried, if the situation was as dire as Katherine painted it something needed to be done.  Which reminds me I have once again skimmed over the details.  It's hard to tell this story from an outsiders' perspective, my girl.  If I had the time to, I would edit this letter to make it chronological and comprehensible.  </p><p>	Key words: 'If I had the time to.'</p><p>	I'm so sorry Mae.</p><p>	What Katherine told me that night was that Lina was having a hard time keeping the class under control.  Katherine's classmates were not particularly rambunctious or mischievous; but the occasional giggles and pranks did take place.  A classroom of twenty-five teenage girls was bound to get difficult at times.</p><p>	Katherine never described Lina as a teacher ruling over her students with an iron fist; but she was most definitely not one to let even the slightest misbehaviour go unaddressed.  Not unpunished; despite how stern she is Lina has never been one to punish students or loved ones alike without there being a major reason to.</p><p>	But those days in which she was aching so deeply on her own she did not care who passed notes in class.  Interruptions were ignored, as were hushed conversations.  Once the student body caught on to Lina's unresponsiveness they started testing how far they could go without getting reprimanded.  Katherine tried to make them stop; but our kitten was the opposite of loved or popular among her fellow classmates.</p><p>	Apparently they could go as far as they wanted to without consequence.  One disrespectful brat called Lina 'God's slut' from the back of the class.  Everyone giggled, but Lina just looked tired and defeated.</p><p>	“She doesn't care anymore”, was how Katherine described it.  “She's just numb.”</p><p>	What finally convinced her and Anne to seek my help was something just as concerning as her apathy towards life.  After Katherine confronted the girl who had insulted Lina she had gotten in (even more) trouble with her classmates.  I will spare you the details, but a group of girls circled Katherine, something happened with a binder and then her nose was bloody.</p><p>	I'm kind of proud of her, knowing that the other girl's nose was equally injured.  I do not condone violence; but I am proud of my Kitty for defending herself while outnumbered.</p><p>	Can you tell how much I miss her?  I miss auntie Jane as much, but she has yet to become an active character in the story.  I will rant about every beautiful detail that made our Janey her beautiful self later on.</p><p>	I hope my constant tangents do not bore you.  </p><p>	Moving on, the bloody nose forced Katherine to go to the nurse's office.  On the way was the teacher's lounge.  I have never been to the school, except for Katherine's graduation, so I do not know the layout any better.  Two teachers were talking outside, commenting in whispers how it was the third time that week that Lina 'forgot to bring herself lunch' and how 'headstrong she was for refusing to go to the cafeteria.'</p><p>	What to them was the day's gossip struck Katherine as very concerning.  She and Lina left the house at around the same time; even though Anna insisted on taking Kitty to school so she would not have to rely on Lina for a ride.  Their morning ritual was more or less the same and Katherine knew for a fact that Lina had prepared herself lunch every day without fail.</p><p>	Another heads up regarding our reincarnation: most of us struggled having a healthy relationship with food.  Nobody comes close to what your poor mother went through, and Jane and I were the lucky ones in that area; but it was hard on everyone else as well.</p><p>	What Lina was doing was fasting.  She did it out of devotion, or so she thought at the time.  Later on she'd admit she was not sure why she had.  In her first life she had fasted a lot while imprisoned.  She thought if she did, then God would be merciful on her and she would be released.  This time round she could not tell if she did it for the same reasons, because she thought she deserved to, or because her willing seclusion was reminding her so much of her imprisonment she was subconsciously reenacting it.</p><p>	All the confusion clogged Lina's mind like mist.  She could no longer see objective facts, all she could do was try to survive every second of every day inside of a poisoned mind that fed her tainted thoughts.</p><p>	That was the tipping point for Katherine and Anne's concern.  It was already strange that Lina was secluding herself; but not eating was where the cousins drew the line.  Apparently Anne would have come talk to me herself; but at the time she was certain I disliked her.  While my attitude towards Katherine had softened, my demeanor towards Anne grew tenser by the day.</p><p>	I have never had any personal problems with auntie Anne, really.  I think she may be the only one.  I simply could not look at Lizzie's mother and not feel like rubbish.</p><p>	In case you're wondering why Lina was agonizing over not managing to protect a child she was not close to and I was relatively at ease regarding my step-daughter, do know that I went through the exact same downwards spiral Lina did.  There were two major differences in our stories, though: for one, I was genuinely unaware of what my husband was doing and the moment I realized I tried my best to protect your sister by sending her away.  Secondly, I went through my own self-loathing before dying in our past life.</p><p>	I'll be honest with you, my princess: I never have forgiven myself for Lizzie's plight.  I see the girl (and did back then) as my own.  While I reacted as soon as I grew aware of Thomas' intentions it was not enough.  I should have noticed earlier; or outright realized he was a monster from the start.  The burden your sister carries is partly my fault and nobody can convince me otherwise.  Lizzie may have forgiven me; as have Anne, Anna and everyone else.  But I will never forgive myself.  I realized too late.  I should have been better for her.</p><p>	 Allow me to ask you a favour: never bring this up with her.  Do not try to be nice while reminiscing my life and tell her how sorry I still am.  The important part is that Lizzie forgave me.  Any and every unnecessary reminder of that atrocious affair brings her pain.  If you must talk about me with her discuss any subject except for this one.  You will only cause her distress.</p><p>	Given that I have, albeit accidentally, entirely cut off the story's flow, I will add another explanation here that I think merits commentary.  If you are as curious about everything as you are now by the time you read this you must be wondering why auntie Kitty was so interested in helping Lina.  Anne was her friend looking for reconciliation, I was her goddaughter.  It made sense for us to care.  But Katherine?  Lina had been nothing but cruel and cold towards her.  </p><p>	I am going to steal a truly marvelous way of explaining it that your Mamma came up with almost a year after our reincarnation: those first few crucial months we were all torn between the past and the present.  We were either grieving the lives we had and those we left behind; or yearning for a future away from the people who reminded us of our past lives.</p><p>	Katherine was a bit more complex in that sense, Mae.  She was grounded in the present.  During her waking hours, at least.  The demons that assailed her mind at night are another discussion.  Maybe it was because the only person she had cared about was with her and so she had no past to mourn; or because said person was also going to be beside her in the foreseeable future.  But, in my Anna's words (and she came up with a brilliant sentence, if I do say so myself): “While we were all living life wishing we were anywhere else, you were [Katherine was] focused on the present.  We could not avoid that we were living together; so why make it a war zone?  If we were going to live together, might as well try making those six months bearable for everyone.”</p><p>	Unlike short conversation snippets, which I have either memorized or paraphrased thus far, I had to look this one up.  Anna wrote it to Katherine in a collective letter we dedicated her after her recovery; but that is another story on its own.  </p><p>	I will try to make this the final interruption.  You must be on the edge of your seat wondering what happened to your auntie Lina.</p><p>	So to summarize: I did not, and never have, hated my sweet Annie.  It was a misconception, that's the important point.</p><p>	We had a tiny problem though: I am no good at verbal communication.  While someone had to address Lina's suffering and I was the obvious candidate I was also the person worst equipped for the mission.  I told Katherine as much and she was surprised.  How could I spend every day typing the hours away and be bad at speaking?  I had no answer, but Kitty did not push the issue further.  She concluded that, if I wished, Anne and her would help me come up with some conversation starters and general pointers.  The two of them had been doing a lot of talking about feelings then and were reading a book on communicating as well.  </p><p>	They had a lot of feelings towards their shared last name, a lot of preconceived notions to dismantle.  They needed all the help they could get if they were to get along.</p><p>	The prospect of collaborating with Anne and Katherine, of all people, was about as appealing as watching a cat slaughter a mouse in cold blood.  But, as you know, there are few things I would not do for my godmother.  I may not have been as close to her as I am now back then; but I definitely had grown to care for her.  She was my stability in the chaos.</p><p>	I could go into details about the three afternoons we spent in my room, the ambiance every bit awkward and uncomfortable as you can imagine.  I could tell you about the stress it brought for everyone involved, how Anna tried to stop Katherine from participating or how Lina felt betrayed I was spending time with Anne.  But that would be another interruption and I promised no more of those.  This is Lina's part of the story, after all.</p><p>	There really isn't that much to add about her in this time I spent with the cousins.  Lina was sinking further and further into her own pit of misery.  Waking up on time became a challenge, the slightest of inconveniences sent shooting pain to her chest that left her breathless, finding the motivation to do things was bordering on impossible...</p><p>	And she was having nervous breakdowns concealed by her closed door.  She did not know what they were; she thought they were death's hands getting closer and closer to her, trying to drag her under the dirt once more.  She would curl up under the covers and cry as silently as she could into her pillow.  She loved a monster, and that made her one as well.  The Bessie Blount issue proved it.</p><p>	Retrospectively, if Jane had been an option, perhaps she would have been the most adequate one for the job.  She already had experience in coming to terms with affection felt towards a vile human being.  The same one that Lina was conflicted about, at that.</p><p>	Despite having done my best to prepare possible outcomes to every situation I could think of with Kitty and Anne aided by their trusty book, my heart was fluttering in a nervous rhythm as I stood before Lina's door that Sunday.  Remaining idle was making me more anxious than acting, though, so I mustered all the courage I had and knocked.</p><p>	I had no need of conversing with her that day.  I wish I had.</p><p>	Lina did not open the door.  She made a strangled, startled sound when she heard the knock, but that was all the feedback I got.  I had not made preparations for this particular scenario, so I knocked again, asking louder if I could come in.  Perhaps I had spoken too softly?</p><p>	No reply.</p><p>	With my third knock a very audible, very distressed sob seeped under the door.  I had to do something, but what if barging in on Lina caused her more strain?  Then again, what if she was going through a situation like that of her death day?  We hadn't figured out their mechanics yet, we had only theories.  As far as I knew she could be going through another one.</p><p>	Anne, ever the impatient one, urged me to go inside from the stairwell.  Apparently she had been supervising from afar.  </p><p>	Indeed, something had to be done.  If Lina hadn't gotten cross at me for walking in uninvited during her death day then certainly she would understand my concern.  By the time I walked in the rest had come, alerted by Anne's unsubtle and loud demand that I check in on her friend.</p><p>	Seeing a person in the middle of a crisis of any sort is always a hard sight.  But Lina, the sturdy and stone-cold Lina, on the floor hiding her head between her knees and sobbing desperately is an image that stuck with me for years.  She was so vulnerable, hurting so much, in such despair.</p><p>	She hadn't even heard me walk in.  She was completely submerged in misery, drowning in it, blocking everything else out.</p><p>	I tried speaking to her several times, but the most I got were muffled words.  And, to be fair, she was emitting those even unprompted.  I couldn't be sure they were answers at all.  I then decided maybe she would respond to touch, like when I attempted shaking her awake on her death day.  </p><p>	While she did respond to my hand on hers, at least signalling that she was not stuck in some remote past, she did not appreciate my gesture.  She shrunk further into herself, away from me.  I did not know what sensory overload was just yet; but I did understand repulsion from tactile input personally.</p><p>	We did call 999 that day.  Lina seemed to be lost in her mind and we had no way of reaching her that did not cause her further discomfort.</p><p>	When Anna described Lina's symptoms to the 999 attendant she was asked if this was Lina's first anxiety crisis.  Unsure of what that even was, Anna guessed it must be.  A bad guess, given that Lina had been having them for almost a month at the time, but we had no way of knowing that.</p><p>	The attendant gave us a couple of instructions before bringing in professionals; some times loved ones are the most effective way of helping someone through an anxiety crisis.</p><p>	But wasn't that the crux of the problem?  Lina had no loved ones with her.  Not yet.</p><p>	When Lina started breathing so heavily she was wheezing we got really, really scared.  Especially Anne.  She hadn't walked into the room out of fear of bothering Lina more, she stayed in the hall and Kitty remained with her.  Anne slid down the wall, collapsing onto the floor with a dull 'thud', pulling her hair as she had during Katherine's death day.</p><p>	“I don't want her to die again” she whispered over and over.  To nobody in particular, it would seem.  “I can't lose her again.  I don't care if she hates me.  Help her.”</p><p>	Now, understand the following mess: somebody had to go in the ambulance with Lina.  Anne could not be it, Katherine was a minor; and Anna and Jane were not on good terms with her.  That left me, obviously, but can you imagine how terrified I was, my girl?  I was already tense from the intended conversation which never happened.  Seeing my godmother in a state I could not name while fearing for her health and safety was as overwhelming as you can imagine.</p><p>	I did not realize how bad I had gotten until Jane asked me to take my phone with me so I could keep everyone updated.  Once again I could not speak.  I wanted to, I tried so, so hard.  It would take years of practice to not force myself through non-verbal episodes, Mae.  The harder I fought the worse, more miserable I felt.  Not only could I not help, I was also becoming an obstacle.</p><p>	In my eyes, anyway.  At the time I interpreted everyone letting me storm off to my bedroom as anger on their part, not wanting to share a room with me.  Later on they would tell me they simply did not know what was happening or what to do.</p><p>	I wound up spending hours in my room.  Not many, but enough for the sun to finish its course and the long shadows of twilight to come in through my window.  I can't say I did much in that time.  There weren't any dramatic, neurotic tears.  I was just sat there, my back against the door, rocking a little.  I think I may have pinched myself in frustration a couple of times; a bad habit I never managed to drop entirely.</p><p>	But that, like everything back then, used to be so much worse than it is now.</p><p>	Everything sounded distant.  I was aware of when the ambulance arrived, of how they took Lina away.  I didn't quite catch who went with her, the ringing in my ears made it hard to distinguish voices.</p><p>	Since I took no major role in that moment, I will tell you what happened outside.  After I left, rather annoyed, Anna decided she would cover for me.  Anne was out of it even if she had been an option, Kitty could not go alone and Jane was, at the time, oddly adamant about not going.</p><p>	She thought she had been the only one reincarnated illiterate, Mae.  Your poor auntie feared she would have to read any kind of medical instruction, even just a prescription, and make a fool of herself.  She was anxious about Lina, too; but she could not imagine herself being in the slightest bit helpful.</p><p>	Anna offered Kitty to accompany her, and rather insistently at that.  To the point that Katherine, not someone to tolerate being treated like a child, had her first argument with Anna over it.  Kitty refused to leave Anne alone with Jane and I.  She was going to stay by her cousin's side and make sure she was comforted and not lonely.</p><p>	That Anna did not appreciate that decision is an understatement.  Two things were going on at the time, two that we did not know of: on the one hand, she wanted Katherine with her due to this household's collective aversion to hospitals.  Being alone caring for an ailing woman she had no ties to, was making Anna's skin crawl.  But you know your Mamma, she could not bring herself to ask for help.</p><p>	I do wonder, had she been upfront, who Katherine would have chosen.  I'm fairly certain it would have been Anna, but I have no way to be sure.</p><p>	I guess tomorrow I can ask her.</p><p>	Secondly, Anna was not keen on the idea of Katherine growing attached to Anne; or any of us for that matter.  Her plans were crystal clear: wait out these six months and move out with Kitty, live the life she so often had wished the two could have had in Richmond.  The two of them alone, nobody around to bother them or hinder them.  Katherine forming bonds with the rest of us put her idealized life in jeopardy.  For the second time.</p><p>	And, given that back then she was not close to any of us, the prospect of sacrificing her ideal life once more for us hurt.  </p><p>	There was more to it, though.  There was a bit of insecurity and jealousy added to the mix.  What if she was inadequate to be Kitty's parental figure; or at least closest friend and source of comfort?  What if she found that in one of us?</p><p>	Insecurity has always been my dearest Anna's weak point, Mae.  Maybe she doesn't let you see it, but she is much more vulnerable than she will ever let on.  The only person she ever had that intimacy with was Katherine.  And me, to a degree.  I do wonder when I look at her some times if I am simply bad at reading her or if there are wounds she would only be comfortable sharing with her girl.</p><p>	If that is the case I cannot blame her.  I also have the deepest bond with you, it is only natural.</p><p>	In any case, my musings aside, Anna would have to come to terms with the fact that Katherine was trying to befriend her cousin.  But that particular day, more pressingly, she got into an ambulance with Lina, with no support, after having argued with her only friend for the first time in either life.</p><p>	Anna had seen better days.</p><p>	Lina was taken to the psychology wing and Anna was directed towards the waiting room.  What your mother would only admit to many months later was the asphyxiating and haunting sensation of stepping foot in a hospital for the first time.  She was familiar with them in theory; just like we were with all XXIst century-related issues until we experimented them.  But, again, she knew it as if she had read the most detailed description of the intoxicating steryl scent and blinding white walls; of its creeping silence and nauseating aura of anxiety that seems to permeate every surface.</p><p>	She wanted to cry, quite literally.  But she would not.  Stress, however, makes one's phantom pains flare up at times.  And that was my beloved's breaking point.  After half an hour of waiting and being informed by a hurried nurse that Lina had been administered a potent anxiolytic the strain of the situation caught up with your mother.</p><p>	When the abdominal cramps hit her immediate thought was that lunch was not sitting well with her.  Everything about that Sunday was dismal; but the hospital and quarreling with Katherine were not making matters better.  That was her immediate conscious thought, though.  Her instinct was that she was going to die again.  No matter how much she tried to concentrate on the hospital around her her consciousness would flicker from her room's ceiling in Richmond in her final hours to the nauseating waiting room.</p><p>	She tried to keep calm, she did her absolute best.  Later on she would estimate that she managed to maintain a straight face for around ten minutes before collpasing.  A nurse that had come to inform her that Lina was very out of it but otherwise alright noticed Anna was damp in sweat, as if in a fever.  The more the nurse insisted on getting her examined the worse Anna got.  Getting fussed over and touched while in a haze was making Richmond take over her consciousness.  The nurse's face seemed to blend with that of one of her ladies, asking her in her final hours if she wanted another pillow.</p><p>	But that could not be possible.  Reincarnation may have been hard to take in, but time travel was simply impossible.  In between cramps, Anna managed to walk out of the waiting room and slowly but surely make her way out of the hospital.</p><p>	The cool breeze outside anchored her to the present.  The visions of Richmond faded into nothing as she took in London's sight, scent and sounds.  As the sanitized environment left her senses, the cramps faded.</p><p>	Your mother may insist she isn't the smartest, but I will have you know she is brilliant.  Latching on to a single coherent thought in the middle of a phantom episode and acting on it is the most reasonable thing to do.  What would take the rest of us time and effort to work out was her first solution.</p><p>	She took her time outside, until she was certain the visions of Richmond were no longer hidden under her eyelids every time she blinked.  She could not name what had happened in there, but she was certain it was the stress causing it.  Any sort of medical institution was already by default not a place she was comfortable in.  Her argument with Katherine had not helped in the slightest.</p><p>	Any excuse to keep Anna from going back in was a worthy one.  As such, she leant against the wall and called Kitty.  An update on Lina's state was as good a reason as any other to talk to her.</p><p>	In that time, not much longer than an hour, Jane kept herself busy in her room.  Anne was severely stressed, for the first time allowing there to be a witness to her aching.  Katherine hadn't explicitly asked Jane to leave, but her subtle suggestion she make everyone some tea had been enough.</p><p>	I cannot give you too much insight, though.  Anne and Kitty never spoke of that evening while the latter was alive.  After her death Anne never brought her up again.  She didn't even go to her funeral.  </p><p>	She did not go to Jane's either.  I have a feeling she won't be attending mine.  I can't be mad at her for it.</p><p>	Please, don't hold it against her.  It's how your auntie deals with grief.</p><p>	The one thing Jane did mention once was that eventually, after Anna called Kitty and Katherine apologized for having screamed at her, none of the cousins knew if they should tell me.  They thought I would appreciate knowing that Lina was alright; but they were unsure if they should disturb me.  In the end Jane took initiative and, under the guise of bringing me a cup of tea, knocked on my door.</p><p>	Up to that moment I had been feeling so much I stopped feeling at all.  Like when we were experimenting with the coloured torches and we lit enough that the area where their colours intersected turned white.  There was so much going on in my mind I phased it all out.  Worry, shame, anxiety, fear...  They blended together into dull nothingness.</p><p>	Jane's knock grounded me to the moment, though.  It was then that I realized it must have been hours.  I was verbal enough to thank her for the update and the beverage.  Relief that Lina was well slowly but surely washed the numbness away.  The tension had left me exhausted, though, and so I went to sleep.</p><p>	It was the first time since Christmas that I rested at night.  But it was also another, more important, first: it was the first time since waking up that I did not feel any links between Jane and her brother.  There was nothing of him in the gentle manner she handed me the mug, careful not to touch me.  He was nowhere to be found in her soft voice as she asked if I needed something else and informed me that dinner was in the fridge if I wanted it.</p><p>	It was the first time I thought maybe I had been unfair to her.  She did not have to pay for her brother's crimes.  </p><p>	I'll have you know I am getting a bit misty-eyed, Mae.  I don't think I have given myself time to grieve Jane's passing.  Ever since the date and fashion of her demise echoed Katherine's death I have been so submerged in theories and looking for solutions that I pushed all my pain away.  </p><p>	But more on this later.</p><p>	Anna had hoped she would take a dazed, incoherent Lina back home and that would be the end of it.  However, in case she had an averse reaction to the medication, Lina was to spend the night in Observation.  Granted, Anna did not have to stay.  Lina did not have an IVs to watch for, and she had the nurse's button if she needed anything.</p><p>	But Anna isn't a monster.  She was cold and indifferent towards us, but she knew from Lina's death day chances were the woman was as terrified of hospitals as she was.  What would happen to her if she awoke in the dead silence of the night alone?</p><p>	Your mother admitted that she cursed herself and her kindness at the time.  She had gone back into the hospital expecting a short stay; not hours.  She very begrudgingly informed the nurse that Lina would not be alone that night, but refused to have dinner at the hospital's cafeteria.  She went to a nearby bar instead.  It was already going to be long enough of a night to spend any extraneous minutes in there.  Plus, she needed to focus on the fact that she was not ill, dying, or a patient herself.</p><p>	What kept her stable that night, despite her attempts at mentally preparing herself, were memes.  No, seriously.</p><p>	When she first stepped foot into the room Lina was sharing with another three patients paralyzing fear took ahold of Anna again.  Lina was basically unconscious from the anxiolytic, sleeping peacefully.  The other patients were holding quiet conversations with their caretakers.</p><p>	The first thing Anna tried doing that night was researching this whole 'anxiety' thing.  She was familiar with anxiety as a feeling, but not as a disorder.  And, if she still had two and a half months to live with us, she wanted to know what problems could arise from Lina and her anxiety.</p><p>	Admittedly to prepare herself for future scenarios.  Unadmitted until much later, because seeing the Catalina of Aragon so broken and vulnerable made her feel sympathy for the woman at the very least.</p><p>	Anxiety lead to depression, to PTSD, to a wide range of mental health conditions.  Some of them Anna would have sworn she had some traits of, or others did.  She was convinced we all had PTSD (and, well... she wasn't wrong).  But her search was defeating its purpose: it had been intended to keep her focus away from the hospital.  Instead, she was concentrating more on it as her mind wandered to what Lina must have been feeling that evening.</p><p>	When that stopped working Anna tried to sleep.  Asleep she would not focus on anything, assumably; but the overwhelming hospital noises and scents were even more present to her without distractions.  The sanitizer was stronger, some patient's bubbling oxygen was louder.  Even the conversations had died down after the lights were turned off.</p><p>	Then she went for a walk outside.  Her stomach was starting to cramp again, and last time it had helped.  While yes, being outside soothed her, as soon as she returned the walls seemed to close in on her.  Lina's even breathing did nothing to block out everything else that screamed Anna was in a hospital, of all places, caring for Lina, for some reason.</p><p>	The uncomfortable seat did nothing to help her relax.</p><p>	It was around 1 AM that her phone vibrated as she got up for what must have been the fifth excursion outside in the span of the last two hours.  It was Kitty, who wanted to check up on her; or so she said.</p><p>	A lie, and Anna knew as much.  What was keeping Katherine awake she did not, however, but pressing her to speak never worked.  Instead she replied that she was fine, if only a bit stressed.  Understatement or fallacy?  I will let you decide.</p><p>	The one thing that was obvious was that neither of them were willing to disclose their distress, so Katherine asked Anna if she knew of memes.  She did in theory, she heard about them at the gym, some co-workers had shown her one or two; but that was where her knowledge of them ended.</p><p>	Turned out Kitty at the time was not the meme-savvy auntie you knew and loved.  She, too, was new to internet humor.  As such, to fend off whichever horrors were gnawing at her, she made a Pinterest account (she was slowly working her way through all social media) and searched 'dank memes'; a term she had heard her classmates use multiple times in the past.</p><p>	Have you ever encountered a meme you knew nothing of?  Its source, its context, the characters in it...  Imagine the rabbit hole one can go down when they know absolutely nothing of any meme ever.  Anna made her own Pinterest account and Katherine and her started a board together: 'Sad Meme Hours'.  Yes, the board we're all a part of these days.  That was how it started.</p><p>	I will confess we have another one without Lizzie, Eddie and yourself.  One that is considerably less PG, my girl.  The happenings of that board are best kept a secret from you for now.</p><p>	The sheer insanity of some of the internet humor was enough to keep Anna engaged.  Kitty's texts, bordering on incoherent from the laughter, kept the looming sense of doom at bay.  Anna had to do her darndest multiple times to stifle her own chuckles quiet in the dead silence of the room.</p><p>	Both of them had been at it for around two hours when Lina stirred.  From that point forwards the thing to keep Anna's focus stopped being incoherent images; but rather keeping a very distraught Lina calm.</p><p>	She awoke with a start.  Unsure of where she was or what had happened, it...  She described it as a very strange sensation.  She was aware that she should be terrified; but she could not be.  Her heart would not race, her thoughts would not spiral.  She simply lay there, taking in the darkness, and assuming she must be in a hospital.  There were few places that would fit the description, few beds as hard and lumpy.  </p><p>	By the time she noticed Anna was there Anna had also realized Lina was awake.  A conversation with Lina was the last thing your mother wanted, so she got up silently and went to search for the nurse.  After a couple of hushed questions (the usual: “Do you know where you are?”,  “Can you tell me your name?”, etc.) the nurse said the doctor would come in the morning and Lina would be discharged.</p><p>	The funny thing about anxiolytics though is that they numb the intensity of your feelings; but not your awareness of them.  Lina could not be frightened on a physical level, but she still was.  She could not break down into a sobbing mess about the shame and disgust she felt towards herself, but she still felt that way.  Now she was calm, but she wasn't on any medication that would force her to sleep if she wasn't tired.</p><p>	And she was, quite tired.  But repulsion towards oneself is a feeling capable of keeping the most sleep-deprived person awake for nights.  Lina knew that, she knew it from experience.  So instead of trying to sleep again she tried getting Anna's attention in the quietest way she could think of.  </p><p>	Anna had, in fact, noticed Lina waving, but until she grabbed Anna's phone and pulled down your mother did her best to ignore her.  Anna wasn't sure she could reason with Lina under the anxiolytic's effects and her conversation with the nurse had been enough to make one patient's caretaker complain.  She contemplated leaving the room.  Lina was fine, after all; Anna served no purpose there.  She could go back home and catch up on some sleep.</p><p>	Instead, your mother took a deep breath and opened up the notes app on her phone, more or less shoving it into Lina's hands.  “Don't talk.  Write.”</p><p>	As other events from that day, the contents of that note were never divulged.  I do not know if your mother kept it over the years or if it was deleted after it fulfilled its task.  However both her and Lina have spoken of their conversation.  More accurately, their feelings throughout it.  Since it was their first interaction and a step in their friendship, I will do my best to transcribe what happened.</p><p>	From both their accounts it is assumably safe to say that Lina's first words were something along the lines of “You were right”, referring to Henry being a monster; followed by questioning Anna's motives to stay with her, who loved said monster.</p><p>	Anna's phone's screen shed light on more than Anna and Lina's faces that night.  Their silent conversation opened Lina's heart a little, letting Anna peek into the vast pit of despair that had taken control of her mind since Katherine's death day.  Lina wrote of her tribulations regarding her feelings towards Henry, the ways she'd tried to justify herself and cope.  Eventually, when Bessie Blount was brought up, Lina broke.  The tears were not hysterical as they'd been the previous day.  She was unnaturally tranquil, after all.  But that her intense disgust and guilt over it managed to make her emotions break through the anxiolytic spoke more clearly than any sentence she could have strung together.</p><p>	Through it all, Lina felt shame; shame that did not improve upon learning that Bessie had gone on to be Anna's Lady too and that they had been close.  She was no longer just ashamed of her actions, but also over the total lack of control over her feelings she was demonstrating.  Bearing her insecurities to a woman she did not know, crying in a hospital room after losing control so drastically she required medication to calm down.  Where was the iron grip she had once had over her heart?  Where was the ice in her veins that kept her level-headed and cool in court so long ago?</p><p>	It felt like personal failure.  Another one to add to the list.  Failed to realize Henry was a monster, failed to aid Bessie, failed to be a better person in her new life, failed to keep herself stable...</p><p>	No matter what direction your auntie looked in, all she could see were mistakes and sins lining the horizon.  She did not deserve the help she was getting.  She did not deserve Anna sacrificing a night of sleep for her.  She did not deserve anything, for she was a wolf in sheep's clothing; pretending to be this almighty and dignified woman when all she was was a heartless demon.</p><p>	Once more her words, not mine.  My godmother is a lot of things (of good things, regardless of her opinion on herself), but none of the above listed.</p><p>	She expected Anna's reaction to be one of several things after her confession: getting up and leaving, taking the phone away and ending their conversation, cursing her to the very pits of hell...  All deserved, in Lina's eyes.  </p><p>	What she had not considered was Anna reassuring her in no uncertain terms that she was anything but a monster.  Bad people feel no regret over their actions; if anything they gain sick satisfaction from them.  Lina was regretful to the point of hospitalization.  That she was in a hospital bed attested to the fact that she could not be a monster.  Someone who had made irreparable mistakes yes.  But not a twisted creature.</p><p>	It made no sense to Lina.  Anna was unarguably one of the best people in the household.  She avoided confrontations, never stirred drama, never sent passive-aggressive remarks, was upfront about her feelings without being aggressive about them and happened to be the only adult capable of seeing Katherine as a child and caring for her as such.  Lina had not been particularly friendly towards Katherine or Anna; and Anna had been very clear on Kitty's death day about her distaste for Lina and Jane.  She had no reason to be nice to Lina now, to try comforting her; let alone when she had been Bessie's friend.</p><p>	That's your mother I guess.  She doesn't need a reason to be nice to people.  She just is.  It's part of why I love her so dearly, my girl.  She truly has a heart of gold.</p><p>	See, Anna could care less about her distaste towards Lina.  It's not like they became friends overnight after that conversation, but your mother could understand her better from that point forward.  She understood why Lina acted the way she did, she understood what fears were tearing her to shreds.  She could grasp why she had been isolating herself, why she'd been fasting.</p><p>	If there's a feeling Anna understands well it is guilt.  It is one of the feelings we bonded the most over; and in our early days there was plenty of guilt to go around in our house.</p><p>	To quench your curiosity, my girl, your mother's guilt was survivor's guilt.  She outlived  Bessie, Eddie and Katherine.  If you don't know much about this brand of guilt worry not: your mother's undoing was intrinsically tied to it and I will give you an appropriate explanation later.</p><p>	Another thing Anna knew well was the tension of life in court.  She had experienced it for less than a year and had little to no regards for English royal etiquette.  But it had been hell, and she is well aware that had she been forced to stay longer in court she would have had to learn to go with the flow of treachery and deception.</p><p>	Considering that Lina had lived in that environment for almost a quarter of a century also helped Anna understand her better.  Lina was cold and had a sharp tongue and quick wit not out of the cruelty Anna had assumed up to that night; but out of a need to survive.  She had certainly needed those skills to survive 24 years in court.  She was lashing out with them at everyone now not out of a desire to cause harm (except maybe to Anne); but out of fear.  She was using her only available survival mechanisms in uncharted territory: asserting dominance and getting people to fear her.</p><p>	Anna's vision of an ice-cold, holier-than-though woman with a superiority complex crumbled when Lina showed her vulnerability.  It did not become what Lina thought it had, that of a weak, cruel monster.  Instead it became a sadder picture of a person who had been forced into a world of ruthless betrayal with nobody to trust for 24 years, had fallen in love with a monster and was now paying the consequences of each and every action in blood and tears.</p><p>	That person Anna could sympathize with.  That person Anna could stop considering an enemy.  Maybe all that Lina needed was a bit of warmth to lighten up, a bit of kindness thrown her way.</p><p>	Lina would never tell me, but Anna did after we got together: at the time, Lina thought I only stuck with her because she was my godmother and I felt obliged to.  My apparently distant demeanor, which she could not have known was autism, made her think I simply tolerated her after she said I married Henry out of choice.  She clung to me due to her fear of loneliness, but not because she thought I cared for her, too.</p><p>	The day Anna told me I walked away from the conversation and cuddled my dearest godmother for hours.  I needed her to know my feelings were genuine, and if my spoken words weren't doing the trick then my affection was bound to.</p><p>	I'm pretty sure it worked; but I am also certain she already knew by that point.</p><p>	As such, while Anna had no intention of befriending Lina, she could offer some kindness.  After trying to convince her that she was no monster (something that obviously did not work immediately) she went on to explain what she had discovered about anxiety as a disorder.  If Lina was ashamed by her outburst, Anna would let her know it hadn't been within her control to begin with.</p><p>	Coming to terms with her anxiety would be no easy feat.  A person tainted by fear and mistrust with an almost pathological need to keep everything under control like Lina was rejected the idea with every fiber of her being.  When her doctor in the morning heavily suggested she book an appointment with the psychologist Lina, much recovered from the anxiolytic, all but scoffed at him.  She was Catalina of Aragon and she had hit a bump in the road; but she did not need any help.</p><p>	Which is not to say your mother did not book the appointment for her regardless.  As Lina bickered about this on the bus back home Anna got very annoyed and spat that needing help wasn't a weakness, but refusing it was.  Anna's manner of being direct and to the point has made Lina fall silent more than once, which I will have you know is no easy feat.  </p><p>	With much hesitation, Lina went to see the psychologist.  She didn't say she was afraid to go alone, but when Anna offered to drive her Lina did not reject the ride.  Even though she could drive herself and had her own car.</p><p>	Not much changed after Lina's outburst; but Anna did take time to educate all of us on anxiety in private the week leading up to Lina's appointment and subsequent formal diagnosis.  Even me, and I think that was also our first neutral interaction.  </p><p>	After the diagnosis a lot did change.  Spring brought forth not just warmth, but that particular March of 2020 it brought something to our house that it hadn't had before: structure.  If Lina did not cope well with unexpected changes and events, then we could set up a routine so she needn't agonize over having enough time to make herself lunch for work because someone else was using the kitchen; or about not being able to shower because someone else was already in the bathroom.</p><p>	Lina fought her diagnosis tooth and nail, as well as every attempt we made at making life easier for her.  She did not want to feel catered to or pampered; not by the women she had been hostile towards for months.  So Katherine came up with an easy solution: it wasn't about her or for her, it was for everyone.  She would not be the only person benefiting from having a chore schedule and knowing what time slots were available for daily activities.  Coordination had been pandemonium up to that moment, so it wasn't a change just for Lina.</p><p>	Although she didn't like it, it was a point Lina couldn't argue.  The afternoon the six of us sat down to discuss who needed to use which area of the house when and what chores were to be done at which time was the second time we all worked together.  The first time had been to figure out how to move out and go our separate ways.  The second one was to make this house a little more into a home.</p><p>	We did not magically grow to care for one another after that, but things did progress in that direction.  I, for one, also thrive in controlled environments.  Arguments over who needed to use what decreased drastically as long as everyone stuck to their chores and schedules.  Between the lack of arguments and the expectable patterns it became easier and easier for me to leave my room.  That way I could also spend more time with my godmother and our bond could become stronger over time.  I was also able to learn more about the others (yes, including what pancakes Katherine liked.  I have not forgotten about the pancake incident and do intend on going over it, my girl.  Patience).</p><p>	Jane, on her part, was taken aback by the distribution of chores.  If everything was organized and there wasn't a pile of dirty dishes every time she wanted something as simple as a tea, she could have so much more free time.  What to use that free time on she did not know yet; but it was a nice break from coming home exhausted and having to wash a plate to make dinner on a stove somebody had used and forgotten to clean.  It made her less hostile towards us in that sense, as she no longer had so many problems.</p><p>	Kitty and Anna, if anyone, were the ones who benefited less.  But still, it helped keep the tensions in the house down as nobody argued over hot water, laundry lodes and the like.  The less people arguing the better.</p><p>	As for Lina, for all her reluctance, it worked.  She knew when she could shower, she knew what rooms would be available when, and she knew what was expected of her.  These details which had previously made her stomach knot up became a soothing pattern she could predict.  That meant she got to work less anxious than before, so she could handle the rowdy students better.</p><p>	The only person who could mess up our newfound calm was Anne.  It wasn't her fault, Mae, she wasn't doing it to be difficult.  It's just order and your auntie don't mix well together.  That would bring on a whole new set of problems, but that's Anne's part of the story and I'm yet to conclude Lina's.</p><p>	Our new stability aside, Lina had to work through a lot.  She couldn't quite stop seeing a monster staring back at her in the mirror every morning.  Her feelings towards Henry did not shift to hatred in the snap of a finger.  The guilt surrounding Bessie Blount did not ease.  But with a lot of hard work, and a lot of support from us, she would gradually get better.</p><p>	I could go into how she needed to almost be tricked by her therapist to start taking anxiolytics when she needed them; but this letter is already egregiously long and I do want to spend some time with you today, my love.  Just know that there was a time when your auntie regarded her anxiety pills like one might observe a dead insect's carcass and refused to take them.</p><p>	Lina did not improve in a short time, but step by step and stumble by stumble she did recover.  Anna realizing she needed warmth and offering to start playing board games with her helped (yes, this was how their tradition began as well.  Anna did it for two reasons: out of sympathy and because nobody else really likes board games.  What my wife and my godmother find in them I do not know, but I am glad they have them and used them to bond).</p><p>	But fixing some things often means breaking others; either on purpose or by accident.  And while nobody ever intended to hurt her and at first it seemed the new schedule benefited Jane, she was the next one to crumble.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Alright, that's it for this round!  If you'd like to tell me what you thought i much appreciate comments ^^.  Also constructive criticism is always welcome.  Thank you for your time, please do take care and i hope you have a wonderful day~!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Poisoned Affection</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm back~!!  Thank you for the support, all interactions mean so much!! ♥</p><p>This chapter is extra long, so apologies before hand.  Jane hadn't been an active character as of yet and i wanted to contextualize what i had in store for her as best as possible.  This chapter is almost as long as chapters 1 and 2 were together.  I considered uploading it in two parts but i figured it was pointless if i was going to say the exact same things in the same amount of words.  Anyways, onto the CWs:</p><p>-Depression<br/>-Self-loathing<br/>-Self-deprecation as a coping mechanism<br/>-Feeling like a monster<br/>-Accidental manipulation<br/>-Unwittingly doing what abusive people did to a person<br/>-Regret and guilt<br/>-Referenced panic attack (not descriptive beyond hyperventilation)<br/>-Feeling like one deserves to be abused<br/>-Family abuse/manipulation (mentioned)<br/>-Thomas Seymour mentioned quite a bit<br/>-Referenced hospitalization (a throwaway line)<br/>-Blood in a metaphorical context, not descriptive<br/>-Self-dehumanization and depersonalization (mentioned briefly)<br/>-Dyslexic character feeling ashamed at difficulty reading (based mostly on personal experience, idk if it's universal or cliché but it's what i based it on)<br/>-Attempted infantilization and coddling<br/>-Overworking oneself to avoid feelings</p><p>Also not a CW but a brief mention (spoiler i guess?) of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.  Not that i like Harry Potter or JK Rowling but it's a childhood classic for many children (it was for me) and i felt it was something Mae would have read.</p><p>And i think that's all?  As always if i missed something do tell me and i'll add it.  Thank you for your time, i hope you enjoy~!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I'm not sure I have provided enough information about your auntie up to this moment for you to get a clear idea of what her mindset was.  Jane was never one to speak much, even in later years.  She was quiet and reserved even with her wife, preferring to keep to herself than “inconveniencing” anyone (quoting her; she was never an inconvenience).</p><p>	Ever since we woke up and Anne “rejected” her Jane did not seek further companionship.  Anne hated her as far as she knew and she deserved as much.  All she wished was for those months to go by as fast as possible.  She could not stand herself for having caused Anne's death (again, her words).  She could not stand Lina, who she had once idolized, being so cruel to Anne.  She could not stand Anna, though nobody knew until later, since she felt that Henry had replaced her.  And this one surprised me, I didn't even suspect it: she could not stand me, either, because I made her think of her brother.</p><p>	And later she was one of my closest friends.  We did bond a lot over how terrible her brother was to us both.</p><p>	Her feelings towards Katherine, despite her initial hostility towards her, were rather neutral.  How then, you may ask, did she say such harmful words to your auntie?  </p><p>	Everyone has a way of letting their feelings out, Mae.  Even those who try to contain them to the point of bursting.  Jane buried all her despair, grief, guilt, shame and sadness so deeply they eventually morphed into poison.  Over the course of those first four months (five if you count the end of November) Jane would explode over the smallest things.  Her alarm clock running out of battery, the shower being occupied, the sofa covers left messy...  She could bow her head and withstand large arguments.  But everyone needs an outlet, and for Jane it was lashing out disproportionately over irrelevant matters.</p><p>	I think despair, guilt and sadness are self-explanatory.  Your auntie felt responsible for Anne's beheading and morose at the prospect of not getting to apologize.  Grief and shame you might be wondering about, so allow me to elaborate.  </p><p>	As much as Jane tried to keep her mind from wandering over to her beloved Eddie she could not stop thinking about her child.  She had nightmares about him, about his life without her.  She tried to view him as king, married and with children of his own.  She wondered if he ever thought of her, if he visited her tomb, if he missed her growing up.  Why hadn't she been able to shield him from the world in a mother's embrace?  Why hadn't her arms been allowed to be his refuge in the storm?  Did he even know she loved him?  Did he ever ask about her?  What relationship did he have with me and his other step mothers?</p><p>	Had any of us replaced her in his eyes?  Was there anyone else he called 'mamma' at one point?</p><p>	...No, Jane didn't know about Eddie dying young.  Not at that time; and with all that was going on I think it was for the best.  Back then she grieved the life she had not been able to have with him.  The cruel fate that tore her away from the only good, worthwhile, precious thing she had done in her life.  To Jane her Eddie was all the good in the world, the embodiment of everything she loved.</p><p>	Those last two questions, specifically, kept her up at night.  She did not delve into the past stuck in the throes of her new life; but she could not keep her mind from questioning.  What if Eddie loved one of us more than he did her?  After all, if Henry, whom she was in love with, had replaced her, why wouldn't Edward?</p><p>	If Jane could not mend her relationship with Anne there was absolutely nothing she wanted to have to do with any of us.  We had been with Henry and seen Eddie grow.  Jealousy consumed her.  Why were any of us better than her?  Why did we deserve the life she had been seized from?</p><p>	It wasn't fair.  That was her perspective, and honestly I do not know if she was right.  On the one hand she never got to meet her child.  On the other, those of us who did suffered our own grizzly fate and did not “replace” her out of free will.</p><p>	Some things are messy like that I guess.  I wish the world were an easier place.</p><p>	As for shame, I kind of touched on it already.  Jane saw Eddie as “the only good thing she had done”; and that is because both in this life and our first one your auntie was riddled with shame.</p><p>	You must understand auntie Jane was raised to be a wife and mother.  She was not given expectations or pastimes beyond those expected of a XVIth century woman.  Embroidering, sewing, doing chores...  She grew up in a simple world without any views for the future other than living a fairy tale life with a man she loved and a big family surrounding them.  She wished to make them all happy, fulfill their desires and give them all the love she had.</p><p>	I must say, my girl, your auntie had a lot of love.  Her heart was filled to the brim with it.  She was every bit soft and caring; the embodiment of tenderness.  Some times she would walk by and the room would be that much brighter because she was in it.  If we were ever sad cuddling up to her could ease our aching.  As Anne once put it, our Janey was simply friend-shaped.</p><p>	The world seemed less cruel with her beside me.</p><p>	As I was saying, Jane's dreams revolved around family.  There is absolutely nothing wrong with that.  I, for all my accomplishments, also dream of a family.  There is few I would be willing to give up for you, your siblings or any of my fellow queens.  There isn't a thing I would not give for us to be a family of ten again.  </p><p>	However, as fine as it is to value family above all else, Jane was cursed, in a way.  She wound up being queen, a world for which she hadn't been prepared.  To make matters worse, she was queen after two highly educated women who spoke different languages, were articulate, tempered and full of courage.</p><p>	Jane was not that person.  She was soft-spoken and mild, well-mannered and agreeable.  She was convinced that was all she was destined to be; and she was abused into becoming that person.</p><p>	She never spoke much about her family, at the very most being slightly open with me about Thomas.  Every time she did bring them up for whichever reason her eyes would go dull, the spark gone.  Some times she would say the most horrific things in the form of a pun or a joke nobody laughed at.  She never did let herself complain about them freely, it was always in some veiled manner.</p><p>	I think she still feared the consequences of standing up to them.  Whatever they did to her I can assure you it was not pleasant.</p><p>	But it would take Jane reincarnation, time and therapy to accept her family was abusive and that her desire to bend over backwards to satisfy everyone's expectations was not her personal wish.  She wished for a family, yes, but she aspired to so much more than solely being the solution to everyone's problems.</p><p>	That was part of the reason she felt so small when compared to the two queens who came before her.  It made her start feeling shame then and there, in the 1500s.  Shame that would burrow itself in her heart and grow roots so deep she never did manage to dislodge them.</p><p>	Her feelings towards Lina, as I have stated, were of unfiltered adoration.  Her queen, when Jane entered her service, was gracious and good, dignified, dazzling...</p><p>	One time Jane said she may have actually developed a crush on Lina back then.  Talk about long-lasting affection.</p><p>	So when Anne “stole that from Lina” (as in: Jane's family said that was what she did and Jane was too submerged in their abuse to question it) and Henry then started taking interest in Jane she thought that was her chance to do something important, righting a wrong.  She may have been “the good queen”, “the subservient one”; but she could accomplish a relevant feat.</p><p>	Jane did not sleep the night after Anne was executed.  Or the ones that followed.  She did not love Henry; she feared him.  He was a monster and she his accomplice.  Anne was meant to pay the price of her actions with punishment, not blood.  Never blood.</p><p>	In the end Jane had done nothing but end a life.  Anne's pain and fear as Jane reveled in her affair with Henry haunted her for months to come.  </p><p>	She did not discuss Henry much in this life, either.  Not even in the form tasteless, trauma-ridden humor.  If she ever did her warmth would give way to a chilling freeze that was genuinely unsettling coming from such a loving person as her.  Her tone would be icy enough to send shivers down my spine.</p><p>	From what we gathered, however, Henry added to that shame.  When she did everything just perfect he would be the husband she had dreamt of.  Kind, loving, doting...  But, at the slightest mistake (or even perceived mistake on his part; objectivity mattered not to the bastard) he would shed the mask and show the monster he truly was.</p><p>	The intense rollercoaster of emotions, of attempting to always foresee his actions and reactions; coupled with the guilt over having caused Anne's death and the years of manipulation from her family blended into Jane in the form of shame.  She was not good enough compared to Lina or Anne.  She was not good enough to defend herself.  She was not good enough to save her cousin.  She was not good enough for Henry.  She was not good enough to be a wife; the one thing she had been raised for.</p><p>	No matter what she did, Jane never managed to see herself as capable or good enough.</p><p>	Now, can you imagine what being the wife who bore the son meant to her?  It meant that for once in her life, Jane Seymour was good enough.  She had not been the smartest, or the most outspoken, or even the kindest.  But she had done something neither Lina or Anne could not.</p><p>	Maybe she wasn't so worthless after all.  Maybe she was good enough.</p><p>	Do not believe for a second that those words are my own, my girl.  Jane was perfect to me and to everyone in this family just the way she was.  No, those words are just the feelings she was experiencing at the time.</p><p>	Eddie was not just her son.  Her son she loved unconditionally, her son was a person she would trade her life for.</p><p>	Eddie represented her lifeboat.  The one single thing that gave her worth and that secured Henry's affection, or so she thought.  Her lifeboat she loved, yes; but she also depended on to unhealthy levels.</p><p>	Her lifeboat she could grow obsessed over.</p><p>	Seeing one's child as the best part of one's life is normal.  You are the best part of mine, Mae.  I may be suboptimal at showing it (although I try not to and sincerely hope I am not) but you are my angel.  Seeing one's child as the culmination and meaning of one's life is very, very different.</p><p>	I am not saying Jane did not see Edward as a person.  She did and she loved him so fiercely she once told Anna had Henry as much as grabbed him too brashly she would have defended him despite the consequences.  No, all I mean is that she also viewed him as her worth.</p><p>	So when she woke up five centuries later in a house full of the women who had either “had her life with her husband and her son”; or whose death she had caused, Jane struggled to find a meaning.  She was nothing without Eddie.  She was vile, she loved an executor and caused her cousin's demise.  Eddie was the meaning of her existence.  Why was she back without him?  It made as little sense as bringing a golem devoid of a soul back to life.  For what purpose?</p><p>	Eddie was her purpose.  She was empty without Eddie.</p><p>	Her obsession with Edward was secondary during her waking hours.  She was far too busy juggling all aspects of her new life to spare more than the occasional thought to her baby boy.  It was at night, in the realm of dreams, where her mind would lead her down dark paths.  She could hear him crying and never find him.  She would occasionally see him snuggled up to Anna or myself, rejecting her.  Her nightmares were, as she once put it, her personal circle of hell.</p><p>	To make matters worse for her, Jane had Dyslexia in this life.  She had not been very well acquainted with letters and words to begin with; Dyslexia made that even harder.  If she focused long enough she could make out words and sentences, but it took her so much time it frustrated her.  She could not write her thoughts down, or casually pick up a book like the rest of us.</p><p>	Even in her new life she felt inferior.</p><p>	The warm yarn shop you spent so many afternoons playing in was Janey's since waking up.  She had inherited from a family member in this life, or so the papers say.  She was rather successful, but the effort she had to put into it was taking its toll on her.  Keeping inventory was bordering on impossible when she could hardly tell coherent words apart; let alone random brand names and colour codes.</p><p>	The good thing was that she did not have to do inventory that often.  She usually bought new stock in extremely large bulks (do you remember the storage room?  You were so tiny when you first walked in it seemed like you could drown in a sea of yarn) and did not have those many clients to begin with.  For the first few months she would struggle when someone asked for a specific colour or brand; but normally requests were generic like “soft yellow and thin” or “white and thick”.  Those she could handle quite easily.  Knitting was second nature to her, as if her body had grown accustomed to it before her consciousness had been placed in it.  She could resort to muscle memory at any given moment to knit.</p><p>	Workshops were her favourite part.  She loved teaching and felt right at home telling people how to do their projects and seeing them come to life week after week.  A bundle of yarn would transform into a colourful sweater, or a hat and matching gloves.  She loved seeing life spark into things.</p><p>	I wish she realized she made life spark into everything she touched.  That she was the spark she so much adored.</p><p>	Despite her happiness with her job and self-reliance Dyslexia still crawled into her life.  She would take wrong turns and be late, try to find a new shop and read the map wrong.  Clients' orders would some times get mixed up, or she would bring the wrong colour to the check-out desk.</p><p>	And when such things happened, her joy fizzled out.  She was still not good enough.  She couldn't even read, or orient herself.  She was a failure.</p><p>	That frustration and shame that had been festering for the better part of five centuries would reach its peak around April; a few weeks after we settled a schedule and tasks for Lina's sake.  That was when Jane first had to do her first large order to refill her stock.</p><p>	She thought she could not.  She stayed late for nights, checking and double checking,  waiting for the letters and numbers to just remain still so she could jot them down.  Then double checking she had written it correctly, making sure her writing was legible so that she could write it well on her computer.  Then checking and double checking that she had transcribed it correctly again.</p><p>	She got ill with exhaustion, barely able to stand on her own, nauseous at the prospect of eating.  She woke too up early to work and came back at indecent hours.  Hypocritical coming from me, a notorious night creature, I know.  But Jane was no daughter of the dark like I am.  She was warm as sunlight and always worked best during light hours.</p><p>	Despite her tiredness she did not stop working on her chores at home.  She did not ask anyone to cover for her; or to excuse her because she was having a hard week.  She forced herself through until she collapsed on her bed with her eyelids feeling heavy as lead.  Why, you may ask?  Perhaps because she did not feel like she deserved the help, like Lina?  Or because she was not close to anyone and did not like us much?</p><p>	I guess to answer that I should best explain what happened at home between Lina's breakdown and the third week of April, when the inventory issue took place.  I don't know if you hold any expectations for this story, but if you do and you are thinking of auntie Jane as you knew her it may not be going where you are expecting.</p><p>	As I said, things around the house got generally better.  Overall, the mood was lighter and arguments decreased.  It was easier to get along and, to boot, we were already trying: Anna had Kitty and was starting to befriend Lina; Kitty had just gotten close to Anne during a vulnerable episode; and Lina and I had each other.  That just left Jane alone and without anyone to spend time with during those trying days.  Katherine was on a mission to make life more bearable for everyone, to end the battlefield once and for all.  A crucial step for her plan was to make sure nobody got left in the dust as everyone else moved forwards and started forming relationships.</p><p>	Something that will be useful to keep in mind moving forwards is that your auntie never meant to build a family.  That was an unplanned and unwanted side-effect that would take its toll on her later on.  She was doing everything just to make things easier for everyone because that is simply the sort of person she was.  But she did not wish to become family-close with anyone bar Anna.  Not even her own cousins, Anne and Jane.</p><p>	Katherine started to approach Jane.  Now that the house was as peaceful as it could realistically get all Katherine needed to do was make sure everyone felt safe.  Jane had nobody to fall back on if she got stuck on something from this new and confusing life, or if she simply had a bad day.  Katherine was on good terms with Anne and Anna, who in turn were starting to spend more time together and befriend each other out of their affection towards Kitty.  All Katherine wanted to do was include Jane in their budding relationship.</p><p>	That soon proved impossible, as Jane was still convinced Anne deservedly hated her.  Katherine would be watching a movie with Anna and her cousin and try inviting Jane over, only for her to make up an excuse.  And oh my was Janey a dismal liar.  Your auntie was the worst person in this house at dishonesty and deception.  When Among Us first came out she was so naive she told us where she was headed.  “Oh, now I have a task in electrical!  And then I will have to go to Admin”.  Needless to say, she was a very easy target.  Then again, nobody ever killed her.  She was so happy going around doing her tasks we had no desire to wipe the smile off her face.  She actually preferred being a crewmate.  I personally found the game rather stupid, but the interesting part was most definitely trying not to get caught as an impostor.</p><p>	Not for Jane, though.  She found beauty in simplicity.  She added a unique touch to everything, seemed to know the perfect spot for every houseplant and every photograph.  We often joked we could give her an abandoned warehouse, three potted plants and a sofa and she would make it look cozy.</p><p>	I am certain she could.  She was so full of life if seeped out of her into everything she did.</p><p>	Anyways, apologies Mae.  I have sat at my desk for approximately a minute now, trying to stop hearing her bubbling laughter and feeling her warm arms around me.  Come to think of it, I believe every corner of this house has been colder since she died.</p><p>	What I was saying was that Katherine caught on to the fact that Jane simply did not wish to spend time with Anna, Anne and herself.  Whether that was because of her or one of the others she did not know and was determined to find out.</p><p>	Another thing that may help you understand why Katherine was so willing to aid people who had been so cruel to her was her deep-seeded conviction that she deserved it.  That she was fundamentally flawed and had earned our scorn.  As much as our words hurt she did not perceive them as slights; but as well-deserved karma.</p><p>	More on her broken psyche later.</p><p>	Instead of trying to mold Jane into the triad Katherine was forming with Anna and her cousin she distanced herself from them entirely and tried to approach Jane one on one.  It started with simple enough questions.  What she worked as, how it was going, if she had a good day...  Over a surprisingly short amount of time those questions spiraled into small conversations and very soon a cordial relationship flourished.</p><p>	It turns out Katherine and Jane, along with Anne, were the ones of us who handled loneliness the worst.  Jane had been secluded for so long that Katherine's kindness was the equivalent of giving water to someone dying of thirst.  And Jane naturally wore her heart and emotions on her sleeve, so it wasn't even remotely hard for Katherine to realize how company starved Jane had been.  Two kind souls found solace in each other.</p><p>	Worded like that, it sounds much nicer than what actually happened.</p><p>	If Katherine wasn't with either her cousin or Anna for the first weeks of our household-wide truce it was safe to assume the girl was with Jane.  The two took interest in the other's hobbies.  It turned out that Katherine adapted better to Jane's than the other way around.  For a long time Jane had wanted to try baking, and now that she did not have to anticipate if someone would be at the kitchen she felt much safer.  The problem was reading recipes, but with Kitty by her side it was solved: Katherine was more than happy to read the recipes for Jane and did not consider it odd since Jane, as the one doing the baking, often had her hands dirty and could not use a touch screen or a computer.</p><p>	Jane and Kitty's baking would turn out to be another crucial tool to bring us together.  People are simply less inclined to argue and leave the room in a huff if there are sweet pastries involved and two of the most adorable people on Earth are asking if they did a good job.  Whenever they had a batch of something in the oven it was a known fact that they would hunt someone down to be their “beta taster”, as Jane put it.  Bless her and her terrible puns.  They were the definition of “so bad they're good”.  Often time the fortunate beta would be Anna or Anne; but slowly Lina and I were granted the privilege as well.  And once things started to look bright and quarrels ended gathering around the kitchen table became a tradition.</p><p>	I miss those Sunday mornings so much Mae.  I miss the way the house would smell so gently sweet for hours and Kitty and Jane's faces flushed with excitement asking if we liked what they'd done, overly explaining what they had changed from the recipe.</p><p>	I miss them so much.</p><p>	Again, that would take some time.  At first it was just Jane and Kitty and the occasional beta taster.  Amid puffs of flour and bowls of sweet molten chocolate the two found that they were less like housemates and more like friends.  Conversations derailed from the generic yet safe route of asking about the other's day.  In between tasting cake mix and sorting baking ingredients the air was filled with deeper words.  About the confusion of being reborn, about how much everything had changed and how much had not, and the like.<br/>	But what Katherine saw as another blossoming friendship would soon become a source of grief.  Because Jane's perspective on the situation was twisted and skewed.</p><p>	Now, while there is no excuse for what she did, try to be understanding with your auntie.  She never meant any harm and stopped as soon as she realized what she was doing.  She berated herself for months afterwards and never again lay a finger on anyone without asking until the day she died.</p><p>	Jane was the sort of person who did not find it hard to love.  Katherine didn't, either, but she was a more complicated case.  Despite it taking her little to no time to love someone, the seed of trust was not so easy to grow for her.  Anyways, while it is rather comprehensible that one would care about Katherine quickly (I would know, as my affection towards her skyrocketed when we started talking) Jane perhaps went a bit too fast.  In a little over a week of spending time with Katherine, Jane had become overly attached.  Combining Katherine's lovable self with someone whose heart knew no limits and was also deathly lonely was bound to be a mess.  </p><p>	In short, and following my earlier metaphor, Jane saw Kitty as her lifeboat in this life.  If her sole purpose was to care for others and make them happy then Katherine must be that for her.  Why else had the girl approached her seemingly out of the blue?  She was so young and she had suffered such a grizzly end.  She must need someone to lean on, correct?  She had Anne, of course.  It was obvious they were getting along; but Jane never thought of Anne as maternal.  I guess in our first life she was too busy trying to “avenge” Lina to notice how maternal Anne was with Lizzie.  </p><p>	The other option was of course Anna.  Anna and Katherine were always together.  But do remember how clumsy they were about their love for each other: Anna always walking on eggshells around Katherine to avoid harming her, and Katherine feeling undeserving of affection, a nuisance.  Despite being as close as two people can possibly be it was really hard to tell from an outsider's perspective.  They were close, yes, but a lot of the time it seemed it was out of familiarity in a hostile environment and not genuine care.</p><p>	Lina and I had no relationship with Katherine at the time and that just left Jane.  Of course she was the one who would “save” Kitty.  Her purpose was to obey and serve, to protect and nurture.  Katherine was just a child who needed guidance and somebody to lean on.  They were made for each other.  The cherry on top was that Katherine had been so young when Henry wed her that it was impossible for Edward to have seen her as a replacement for Jane.</p><p>	Her reasoning at the time; not mine.  Katherine needed guidance and love as everyone does in this life, she needed a family.  But treating her like an ordinary child with their ordinary needs was not what she wanted nor required.  Infantilization drove her up the walls and those were exactly Jane's intentions with her before Katherine even considered her a close friend.</p><p>	It started really small.  Jane waking up a bit early to make Kitty's lunch.  Katherine did not particularly like cooking, but she disliked being coddled even more.  However, Jane was just trying to be nice, there was no reason for her to overreact.  If it wasn't Katherine's lunch, then it was doing her laundry for her.  Or going out of her way to do Katherine's chores for her so she had more time to study.</p><p>	Kitty found this behaviour asphyxiating, but did not lift a finger to stop it.  She was no powerless child, make no mistake.  It was much more complex than that.  Jane and her both understood the concept of love in the same messed up manner: love, in their eyes at the time, was intrinsically tied to abuse.</p><p>	Jane had been convinced the twenty-nine years of her short first life that those who abused her and controlled her did it out of affection.  Katherine had been gaslit into thinking people hurt her to “fix her” and “make her better” because “she deserved it.”  Jane saw control and coddling as caring.  Katherine saw it as the only relationship model that was right.</p><p>	You may make the case that, unlike Jane, Katherine knew real love from Anna in both lives.  She knew that being cared for should not feel like being held underwater and that a cold shiver should not wrack her every time she saw someone who supposedly loved her.  She should have hence known that real love is safe, warm and comforting.</p><p>	That is missing the point.  Katherine saw Anna's love as something out of her league, as something too good for her.  Her mind had been broken into fragments and the only thing those fragments agreed on was that she was unworthy of Anna's love.</p><p>	When, in her new life, the oppressive affection started again, Katherine's change was noticeable.  She sought out Anne and especially Anna much less, preferring to hide in her room.  At school she was always tired, occasionally falling asleep in class.  Her grades were better than ever, she was drowning herself in work to keep her feelings at bay.</p><p>	Katherine avoided Jane, that much was obvious.  I started noticing when the two's banter vanished practically overnight.  I had grown accustomed in the short weeks they were friends to hear them in Kitty's bedroom.  That was when Lina brought up Katherine's sleep deprivation and overperformance in school.  She may not have been close to Kitty quite yet, but Lina was starting to care about her.  At the very least she was thankful for Katherine's concern back when she was getting consumed by anxiety.</p><p>	I really didn't know what to do, Mae.  I had lived with a teenager, with Lizzie, for a while but I was still lost.  I lived with Lizzie before innocence was snatched from her, I did not have to deal with the aftermath.  My experience in traumatized teenagers, especially those whose ordeal I had added onto, was none.</p><p>	Katherine reached her breaking point when Jane started practically demanding more of her time.  She had already cut back on spending time with Anne and Anna just because she did not feel like she deserved their healthy company.  What Jane asked of her broke her.</p><p>	Jane herself had been broken many times in the name of love.  By her siblings, by Henry and most definitely by her parents.  She was becoming the monster that had hurt her, indeed, but she was legitimately convinced it was the right way to care for a child.</p><p>	Obviously it wasn't.  Again, I am not trying to excuse Jane.  She was blinded is all I am pointing out.  Turning a person into the meaning of one's existence, turning them into one's life boat, is an inherently dehumanizing act.  </p><p>	One afternoon, after having been pulled out of her room by a pleading Jane, Katherine could not take it anymore.  Jane insisted she had seen something adorable online that she wanted to try with Kitty, but it was not related to baking.</p><p>	Jane wanted to do Katherine's hair.</p><p>	It sounds innocent enough, but do you remember what I had to tell you and Eddie a while ago about playing hairdressers with auntie Kitty?  To never, ever do it, right?</p><p>	At the time I was downplaying its severity because you two were children.  By the time you read this I assume you will be old enough to understand what memories touching Katherine's hair brought to surface.  She was already one not to be touched without warning, her hair was entirely out of bounds.  As long as she was warned before hand she did not seem to have problems with people caressing her scalp.  The revolting bastards who made her fear getting her hair touched were not people to bother with gentle scalp rubs.</p><p>	When Jane forced Katherine into the chair she did not notice she was chiding her for supposed disobedience in the same form her brother scolded her.  When she told Katherine to stop complaining she did not realize she sounded like Henry.  When she suggested that Katherine wasn't thankful enough for the affection she was receiving she did not realize she was directly quoting her father.</p><p>	You have to understand Katherine suffered a deep disconnect from her emotions.  Crying was very hard for her, so mostly she dry cried in the form of tearless sobs.  Those sobs were rather loud.  The sound that drew us all to Jane's bedroom that afternoon was a horrifying one.  We would later on hear Katherine's dry crying more often as she grew to trust us.  Nothing quite came close to the fashion in which she cried when Jane pulled her hair while trying to undo the knots.</p><p>	Some times, when I have nightmares about Katherine, I still hear it.</p><p>	Maybe there would have been something less haunting about that scene if Katherine had been able to cry real tears.  If she hadn't been staring off into the distance like someone whose soul had been stripped away while hyperventilating.  I think a lot of my bad memories with Kitty would be less unsettling if she had been crying tears, or even throwing a tantrum like a moody teenager.</p><p>	This particular memory is gruesome because of Jane, too.  She dropped the brush once she heard Katherine's distress.  It rattled to the wooden floor, making Kitty squeak in fear.  Jane looked at her hands as if she had murdered someone and blood were dripping off them.  Her hands trembled as much as Katherine's petite shoulders with those heart-stopping sobs.</p><p>	Apparently what Jane saw at the moment was not Katherine crumpled over herself like a pupped cut from its strings.  She later told me she was seeing her father's face, her brother's, Henry's, all in quick succession as they justified their actions with love.  Her heart stung because love was the last thing she felt when they screamed at her, when they tore into her with words sharp and cold as steel.  </p><p>	That was not love.  That was not something she would have done to Edward.</p><p>	Why had she become the monsters that had broken her?</p><p>	I don't remember who barged into the room first, Anne or Anna.  Lina and I stayed at the doorway.  Lina was looking at everything in disbelief.  She did not know what had happened, but she was positive it had not been good.  But I was frozen for another reason.  From where I stood, Jane's reflection in the mirror looked a lot like Thomas.  It was only for a split second before she realized what she had done and she dropped the brush, but the chilling stare in her eyes almost made me shatter, too.</p><p>	Not because she reminded me of him, although I guess that was part of the reason.  More because I recognized that.  Thomas had that power over people, to make himself look righteous and good.  To make it seem that being like him was something desirable and correct.</p><p>	I too had been infected by him.  Maybe if I hadn't been Lizzie's story would have been different.</p><p>	But I digress.</p><p>	That afternoon Katherine punched Anne.  By accident, of course.  Anne went to embrace Katherine and her fight or flight response kicked in.  Realizing that Anna knew how to handle a broken Katherine better than her, Anne stepped away with a bruised eye.  Instead, she tried getting through to Jane.  Lina did not know if she should follow her newfound friend Anna or stay with her former Lady.  Then again, it was impossible for her to remain civil if Anne was involved, so she went with Anna and Katherine instead.</p><p>	I stayed with Anne and Jane.  Anne may not have been aware of it at the time, but our three lives had been ruined by the same man; Henry aside.  I wanted to let Jane know that realizing he was a virus that spread was the first step in recovering.  That it would take some time before her toxicity subsided, but that feeling like an irredeemable demon was the first milestone.</p><p>	But I am no good at talking.  As much as I tried I could not find the right words.  Instead of lining up in my voice box they were filing at my fingertips.  The itch to write them down instead of speaking them dawned on me and I acted on it.  I left Jane's bedroom and went to my computer, where words made sense and I could use them to convey my thoughts and feelings.</p><p>	Lina was not wanted around Anna and Kitty, so she joined me.  She did not know what had transpired.  The timeline, if you've noticed, was jarring as well: one week Jane and Katherine were barely starting to speak, the next they were spending more and more time together, the third Katherine was a shell of a person and that same weekend she snapped.  Lina knew Jane, she was certain she was not cruel.  How had she managed to reduce someone as steadfast as Katherine to an unresponsive heap in such a short amount of time?</p><p>	I wanted to tell her all about the Thomas Seymour infection.  I wanted to tell her how his ghost lived in a person even without him near, how his words and actions twisted a mind until it could no longer tell reality from his fabrications.  The way in which he convinced people he was cruel out of love and they were just ungrateful.  The manner in which he destroyed a person from the inside out until nothing but puss was left.</p><p>	Alas I could not, so I wrote.  I wrote a long letter to Jane.  She must be feeling terrible, she must be feeling like an abomination.  But she was not.  A lesson most of us who had done questionable (at best) things had to learn was that monsters do not regret their actions.  I had more or less accepted that in my first life in all honesty thanks to Lizzie's kind heart and words.  The least I could do was try conveying that to another of Thomas' victims.</p><p>	For all that Anna and I spoke of Kitty with reddened eyes over steaming cups of tea in our bedroom after she died, Anna never disclosed much of what Katherine confided to her in private.  She shed light onto misconceptions I or the others had, but her mouth was sealed with the same force her heart was after losing her girl.  Even though their conversation is another thing to add to the growing list of events I cannot narrate I can tell you the aftermath.</p><p>	After I was done typing Lina suggested we make tea for Katherine and Anna.  Upon my insistence, for Anne and Jane as well.  Lina told me she saw no point in “remaining neutral” when Jane had obviously hurt Katherine, but I was not trying to stay in the sidelines.  I just saw two victims, I did not think there were sides to pick.</p><p>	I suggested only Lina bring tea to Anna and Kitty, as I knew my presence would not be welcome.  I did go with her, though.  I wanted to hear Katherine's voice, that she was okay.  From my place in the hall I regretted that choice.  Some things are not nearly as hurtful when they're narrated than when they are witnessed.</p><p>	Katherine's old bedroom door rarely closed all the way.  It was faulty like that, any breeze could make it crack open.  As much as we did not want to intrude on either of them, it was unavoidable that we overheard a snippet of their conversation as we approached the door.</p><p>	“Whatever” Anna said gruffly; or something along these lines.  “I won't if you feel better, but I'm still talking to her about this.  It can't go on.”</p><p>	“Just don't go too hard on her, please; it's not her fault” Kitty replied, her voice hoarse.  “Some times people need a thing to play with.  I'm that thing.  I should be grateful someone still wants me, I'm hardly more than sloppy seconds.”</p><p>	Lina turned to me horrified.  Anna made a sound...  I struggle describing it.  It was a sharp inhale of sorts, a pained one.  As if Katherine's words had physically hurt her.</p><p>	They hurt me too and I hadn't grown close to her yet.  They still hurt.</p><p>	My precious Katherine struggled with depersonalization a lot.  She felt more like a disposable object than a human.  She could refer to herself as an 'it', or an item with the most deadpan voice, as if she were saying something completely natural and healthy, a given.  I would love to say that it was one of the issues that faded over time, but it did not.  It merely became more bearable, but the lingering feeling of not deserving basic human decency never stopped clouding her.</p><p>	I could go on for a long time about how these events affected Katherine, but I will cover that extensively later on, as she was center stage of one of the largest tragedies to strike us in our early days.  Since there is no need to reiterate and inflate the length of this letter (if you can still call it one), I will skip to the important part: Katherine forgave Jane, and rather quickly at that.  To summarize, she was not used to those who hurt her apologizing, so when Jane pretty much broke down in front of her Katherine understood that her words were sincere.  After talking to Jane Anne, Anna and Lina grew to accept her apology as well, albeit much more reluctantly than Katherine and I, and under the condition that no such scenario happened again.</p><p>	Of course, it never did.  Jane struggled to keep the beasts of her abusers inside her from time to time, but nothing of such magnitude took place afterwards because Jane was not a bad person.</p><p>	She could never be.  She was sunshine if it had taken human shape.</p><p>	Much before the apology in question, and as Anna and Kitty had their private conversation, Anne and Jane were holding one of their own.  Although they were never open about it (and we never pressured them to.  Are you noticing the pattern that your mother, your aunties and I do not infringe on the rest's privacy?) they did give us enough insight to get the gist of it.</p><p>	After learning of their shared demise, Anne was more protective of Katherine than she would show.  To her face, anyway.  Anne was aware that becoming overbearing would push her cousin away from her rather than gain her trust.  However, with Katherine nowhere in sight or hearing range, she could ask Jane why in the name of God she was forcing her baby cousin into a chair and touching her without consent as loudly and coarsely as she liked.</p><p>	Jane broke with a single probing question.  How could she ever put into words that there was something fundamentally wrong with her?  That there was a taint within her left by those who had exploited and manipulated her that warped her view of reality into a twisted sight?</p><p>	Some things are too vast to explain with words, Mae.  Had I been asked that question I would have frozen up.  Your auntie did manage an answer, just an oversimplified one.  Her conclusion of the whole situation was that she was a bad person.</p><p>	Her reply confused Anne.  How was Jane a bad person?  If she was a bad person how was she feeling regret?  Wasn't Lina quite literally in therapy trying to come to terms with that?  “Bad people don't feel remorse and do not strive to be better” was a sentence that was starting to get thrown around our household a lot and would continue to for a long time.</p><p>	Jane could not believe that of herself, however.  She was familiar with monsters.  She had been bred by them, grown up among them and wedded one.  She knew how monsters act, how they hurt good people.  Katherine had been nothing but kind to her with no obligation to be, and still Jane had acted like the monsters she had learnt to fear and despise.</p><p>	The way an abuser creeps into your soul and controls your every thought even when they are no longer around is something I hope you never have to experience, my princess.  How it feels to be mistrusting of your own thoughts, second-guessing if they are your own or if you have been lied into believing them.  A certain horror burrows in your bones and makes them its house.  Even when the abuser's taint leaves, the metaphorical holes are still left behind.  You can feel the pain that has been inflicted on you and that you have inflicted on others.  The wounds may heal, but the holes never close.  They remain a permanent reminder of what humanity, yourself included, is capable of doing.</p><p>	I do not think that, Anne would have gotten anywhere with Jane if she had insisted on demanding answers regarding what she had done to Katherine and why.  Not that afternoon.  Jane would need a lot of help to accept that she was not her family, that she was more than her last name.  Your auntie Anne is brilliant, Mae.  She may hate showing it and prefer goofing off in public, but she is an astoundingly intelligent individual.  The way she sees things, her unique perspective, is truly enriching.</p><p>	Which is why she realized Jane would go down a spiral if she pressed the issue further.  Instead, she took it elsewhere.  Apparently Jane said something in the vein of “You would know that I am terrible” and Anne asked why she, specifically, should know.</p><p>	Maybe if Jane had not been vulnerable she would have closed up.  Maybe if she had not been so disgusted with herself she felt she deserved to be screamed at and mocked she would have not admitted it out loud.  But a lot of our healing started from reaching our breaking points, the moment where we no longer cared about the consequences of honesty.  And for Jane seeing herself reiterating her family and Henry's actions was that tipping point.</p><p>	She told Anne how she really felt about her beheading, that if she had not toyed with Henry then he would not have tired of Anne.  And your auntie was just more confused.</p><p>	None of that made Jane a bad person.  Jane knew that Henry was going to replace Anne.  If not with Jane, then with someone else.  Had Jane defied him she would have gotten herself punished; nothing more and nothing less.  That he would replace Anne was inevitable; the only event Jane could control was her own fate.  She tried to save herself, just like Anne did after seven years of pressure.  Anne may not have liked Jane much in their first life, but in hindsight they had done the same.  The only difference was when they crumbled under the pressure.</p><p>	The comparison may be a bit simple, though.  While Anne most definitely hailed from an abusive family, she was educated and independent on a level Jane had not been given the chance to be.  Anne was aware that she was merely a pawn for Henry and her family's ambition.  Jane honestly thought she was building a family and that Henry's abuse was love.  Granted, at the time Anne did not have enough information to make a better assessment of the situation and the relevant part was that it managed to get Jane to stop crying, at least.  Her confusion at Anne's forgiveness was enough to steer her away from her self-destructive thoughts.</p><p>	They talked about more, but even as we tried years later to piece together how we had become as close as we are, the rest remained a secret between the two.  Even this retelling is probably around 25% of me projecting how I think things went down based on how Janey and Anne are.  Or, were, in Jane's case.</p><p>	Their conversation lasted well into the night.  Neither of them went down for dinner.  Occasionally sobbing could be heard.  After Anna and Katherine were done talking (and after Anna had a very serious talk about Katherine referring to herself as an object) the two went to sleep.  Lina still did not understand what had happened, given that neither Katherine nor Jane divulged the events to her.</p><p>	I stayed awake, perfecting my words for Jane.  My thoughts had to be as clear as possible for her to understand that yes, her actions were out of line and there was no taking them back.  But there was a way out of Thomas Seymour and Henry's poison.  I hadn't even processed why I felt the need to do that for her.  My sympathy kicked in hard, seeing her struggle with the same despair I had in our past life.  I was moderately jealous that her awakening had been pushing Katherine into a chair.  </p><p>	Mine was much slower.  I did not realize I was behaving like a monster until someone got really, really hurt.  In that sense Jane was infinitely better than me, she had no business feeling disgusted towards herself.</p><p>	After printing the letter I waited until I heard Anne head back to her room in the attic.  The letter had been ready for a while, and I had pictured in my head how I would leave my room, knock on Jane's door, hand her the letter with as little explanation as possible, and retreat back to my room.  That was the plan, I was not expecting Jane to sob when handed a letter.</p><p>	The last thing your poor auntie needed that night was to feel stupid on top of every other horrible adjective she was assigning to herself.  I had no idea why a letter she hadn't even read was causing her such distress.  I hadn't meant to hurt her more!  In my haste to fix things I kind of short circuited and acted on instinct.  I shut the door behind me so she wouldn't wake anyone and started reciting the letter out loud to reassure her it contained no accusations.  Every character was there for her comfort.</p><p>	I have often been told my worlds can captivate, but never have I seen it as clearly as I did that night.  Slowly, Jane stopped crying.  When her sobs turned to sniffles she asked me to read it again.  I deemed it an odd request, but indulged her regardless.  Maybe she hadn't heard the beginning over her inconsolable wails and her vision was blurry from tears.</p><p>	I guess I got one part right.  The problem was indeed her vision, just not blur from tears.</p><p>	After the second read, your auntie apologized to me still misty-eyed.  That was even more disorienting.  I had been the person least connected to the incident.  However that was not what she was apologizing for.  She was doing so on behalf of her brother, for all the strife he had caused me.  She did not pry, did not try to pull answers from me.  She simply felt bad he had corrupted me, too.</p><p>	I was glad she did not insist.  The first person I owed an explanation to was Anne.  I needed to figure out how to tell her.  At the time I thought around May, after her death day, would be good.  Theoretically in May we would all be moving out, after all.  I wouldn't have to see Anne again.</p><p>	That did not play out, obviously.</p><p>	We talked until the sun came out, Janey and I.  Well, she talked and I mostly nodded.  She had this way of explaining things, you know?  The manner in which she focused on people's eyes (or an arbitrary piece of furniture in my case, it didn't take her long to work out eye contact bothers me) reminded me of the fixation birds observe with.  The way her words wove together...  Her voice sounded soft and gentle, calming.  It was bubbly and bright.  </p><p>	What impressed me the most was how she managed to convey what Thomas (and others, but she focused mostly on our common experience) had done to her without explaining a single detail.  She told me how she had been positive, absolutely convinced she was doing Katherine a favour with some “tough love”, only to be horrified at the cold in her heart when she snapped out of it.  As I mentioned earlier, Jane wasn't open about her family, or Henry.  I have not heard a single tale about specific events, except some vague references to them in the form of dark humor.  </p><p>	And yet if I put myself to it I could describe the fear she grew up with.  The terror of making the “wrong” choices or being “too outspoken”.  I could tell you how hard it was for her to speak without fearing punishment, how her cheeks dampened with tears as a child because she was being “rambunctious” and knew some “discipline” was coming.  The way her parents scorned her for doing things her siblings could get away with.  I could go into minute detail about the paralyzing panic their memories brought.  The ghosts of her family were always stalking patiently in Jane's subconscious, waiting for her mind to drift off so they could ambush her.</p><p>	She was so vivid.  The way she spoke was outright colourful.  I don't have synesthesia, but your auntie Anne does.  She always attributed bright, blaring colours to Jane's speech.  If anyone could enrapture Annie through spoken words alone it was Jane.</p><p>	She was also incredibly patient.  That first night it took me some time to start asking questions when I didn't understand exactly what she meant.  She did not make me feel unintelligent or slow even once.  She just explained and moved on without a trace of annoyment.</p><p>	That was the first night I found myself thinking I would like to be close to someone other than Lina.  The warmth Jane exuded I wanted beside me forever.  I wanted to bask in her presence like cats do in sunlight.  </p><p>	My connection with Jane was almost instantaneous, much faster than that of the other queens.  There's a certain kind of solace you can only find from people who have encountered the same monsters you have; those whose scars are the same shape as your own.  Jane and I found that respite in each other.  She did not feel vilified by me and I for once since waking up felt understood.  Descriptions of the events were not necessary.  We understood.</p><p>	In the end, Jane admitted she wanted to apologize to Katherine, but did not know where to start.  I offered to write a guide for her, but she dismissed the idea.  She instead insisted she would improvise and thanked me for the letter.  But as I left she returned it to me.  I thought she did not want it.  Later on, when she got diagnosed with Dyslexia and started learning her way around it, she asked me if I still had it (I did not).  It turned out everyone, not just Jane, kept all the letters I wrote for them.</p><p>	The day I found out my words meant so much to them was one of my happiest in this life.  Since I would soon discover my most effective way of helping the others was through my gift for writing, they accumulated a lot of letters over the years.  Early on Lina bought everyone matching folders for my letters.  Never again has a gift that was not meant for me meant so much.</p><p>	Apologies, Mae, for losing my train of thought so often.  I feel like the day we buried Jane we committed a crime.  I don't see how we could leave her in such a cold place, surrounded by such lifeless stones.  I think a part of myself froze when she died.  Remembering her like this makes me feel her close again, like she might knock on my door with Katherine trailing behind her asking me to beta taste their new cookies after checking they contain nothing I am averse to.</p><p>	Memories hurt so much.  But I would not trade them for the world.</p><p>	The following morning was very tense.  Sundays were the most lax days in terms of schedule.  There was nobody assigned for making breakfast, no external structure to follow.  Just a few leftover chores from the rest of the week.  It was the day we would accidentally wind up having breakfast in awkward silence in groups of two or three.  Getting up and leaving was too brash for our attempted truce, but often times sharing a table with strangers you have said unpleasant things to was a challenge.</p><p>	One that Lina was not willing to put herself up to if Anne was in the kitchen.  If she as much as suspected Lina was coming our poor Annie would get up and leave, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.</p><p>	I was very hesitant to go downstairs.  I hadn't slept much, the conversation with Jane was one I wanted to analyze and dissect before time made it fade.  I wanted to understand all we had spoken about, make sure I would not forget a detail that may be important to her.  Precisely because I wasn't asleep it was easier to give in to hunger.  I figured I would go downstairs, grab a bowl of cereal and return to my room.</p><p>	The aura in the kitchen that morning was by far the tensest I remember the room ever being.  The white curtains shuddered in the light breeze as if they too feared the conversation that was taking place.</p><p>	On one side of the table were Jane and Anne, looking very out of place and awkward.  They still had much to sort out; and that in and of itself would have been less than ideal if they had been alone.  A very stiff and displeased-looking Lina sat before them next to Anna and Kitty, who had just come back from an early morning walk and were standing there in painfully uncomfortable silence.</p><p>	I stayed on the stairs.  If there was to be a conflict I wanted no part in it.  Lina, who knew me better than anyone else, had been too quick to assume I was “picking sides” the previous day.  I preferred to avoid any potential misunderstandings.</p><p>	Out of all the details that could have stuck with me I remember the hoodie Katherine was wearing best.  Funny how memories work.  It was one of Anna's, and although Katherine would in time become the household's official clothes gremlin, stealing clothes from us all, I had not seen her wearing anything that wasn't hers before.  It was ridiculously large on her, more a dress than a hoodie.</p><p>	Jane's idea of improvising an apology was apparently rushing through fragmented sentences and broken words as fast as possible before standing up and marching out of the kitchen at full speed before Katherine could get a word in.  With how caring, responsible and gentle Jane was it was always easy to forget that she was our second youngest.  When she got overwhelmed by situations she often fled the scene.  I am not saying that she was immature, but she did note cope well with stress.  She, too, was vulnerable.  I cannot help by feel we were not there for her as much as she needed us to be.</p><p>	I do wonder at times, had Katherine not insisted on befriending Jane, what would have become of her?  She lacked the motivation to ask for help on her own, she did not approach anyone after Anne supposedly rebuffed her the day we woke up.  We should have been more watchful with Jane.  She was sinking in plain sight and nobody realized.</p><p>	Then again, those subtleties have never been our forte.  Once more, my girl, I will explain later.</p><p>	Had Jane stayed five more seconds in the kitchen she would have seen Kitty freeze for a moment, then smile.  She turned to follow Jane, but Anna held her back.  “You don't have to forgive her”.</p><p>	“But I want to.”</p><p>	I think the idea that would lead to the pancake incident flourished on those stairs, after hearing that sentence.  Katherine had no reason to forgive Jane.  For all she knew there was no explanation for Jane's behaviour, and hence no motive for Katherine to be so willing to brush Jane's actions aside.</p><p>	At the moment I thought she had a huge heart.  Looking back on it, I get a darker perspective.  Katherine was so out of touch with healthy relationships she clung to anyone just because they uttered an apology.  She was so starved for affection she had no filters; anyone who treated her nicely would do.</p><p>	If I could go back in time I would be kind to her since the moment I laid eyes on her.</p><p>	...Pointless musings.</p><p>	Anna's interference gave Jane enough time to leave the house.  Seeing the conflict resolved so quickly I retreated to my room.  If Katherine was the forgiving type of person, I wanted to apologize.  Not because I thought I deserved any redemption after the things I said to her; but because I wanted her to know I was sorry.  I hadn't apologized earlier fearing her reaction.</p><p>	Hours later, I heard Katherine and Jane talking if Kitty's room again.  The conversation was much more relaxed than it had been in the weeks leading up to the breakdown; but much stiffer than those few precious days the two had been legitimate friends.</p><p>	It would take some time for their bond to mend; and even longer for Katherine to recover.  However she was not the only person that got harmed during this episode of our lives.  Despite being the offending party, Jane received the most backlash.   It didn't even come from the rest of us, wary of her after her inexcusable behaviour.  There was a bit of that involved, too, but mainly it was Jane herself trying to compensate.</p><p>	Remember when, barely a month before, auntie Lina thought she did not deserve any aid or sympathy?  She shut everyone out and locked herself away.  Jane's reaction to the same mindset was equally destructive and the exact opposite.</p><p>	Until Jane started therapy and furthermore began to make progress, this thought process remained locked behind sealed lips.  It was Lina she told, if I am not mistaken, in a coffee shop one day.  What Jane decided after Katherine's unexpected forgiveness was that, at the moment, she was unworthy of Katherine's trust.  And the rest of ours, for that matter.  Instead of keeping to herself and staying out of the way, as Lina had, Jane decided she would become worthy.  She would prove beyond a shadow of a doubt she was nothing like her brother, or Henry, or any family member related to her last name.</p><p>	If she was trying to prove it to us or to herself she could not say.  Every time we asked after the fact, once our bonds were tight and safe, she would shrug, stare going blank.  “Both?  I don't know”.  </p><p>	I have no evidence to back this, but I think she wanted to prove it to herself.  She had no strong relationship with anyone to feel such an urge to prove herself trustworthy.  I think Jane needed to look in the mirror and not see Thomas anywhere.  Not in her smile, not in her stare.  She needed to do all she could to go to bed at night without feeling his presence clinging to her skin like soot.</p><p>	Without fearing she would taint anyone if she dare touch them with said soot on her hands.</p><p>	I understand the feeling very well.  I wonder if she ever managed to shake him off completely or if she learnt to live ignoring his quiet voice in the dark recesses of her mind, as I did.  I truly hope she ridded herself of him for good, but I doubt it.</p><p>	The week after the apology Jane was an exemplar housemate.  Her chores were always done, she never left anyone hanging because she procrastinated to the last second.  The common rooms she needed were always empty and clean for the next person on time.  </p><p>	As I started this section with, however, her work life was falling apart.  She was barely sleeping, berating herself.  For being illiterate, for being an idiot, for being a bad person, for not deserving kindness.  All these negative feelings built up inside of her until they turned to poison.  Except this time, instead of expelling it through exploding at the smallest things, she turned it inwards, internalized it and absorbed it.  If she felt like she was being selfish by accepting help she did not deserve (in her opinion) she did not say regrettably petty things, like she'd told Katherine and others unfortunate enough to cross her path of down days.  Instead, Jane wrote in a diary.</p><p>	It could hardly be called a diary, she had a very hard time writing back then.  The wretched notebook was pale grey and had gold-rimmed pages.  If not for the title and its contents, it would have been a very pretty book.</p><p>	The day Anne walked into the living room with wide eyes and a tight frown was around two weeks after the apology.  Jane had been sweet and calm with everyone, but avoided contact with Katherine.  Kitty did as well.  After their first conversation their relationship cooled down to cordiality.  While Katherine still feared deep down that Jane would treat her “as she deserved” again, Jane could not look at her without hearing her haunting dry sobs echoing in her mind.  </p><p>	Where Katherine stepped back, Anne took her place in trying to comfort Jane.  She was still angry at her for having been unideal to Katherine, but our Annie is very perceptive.  She did not have the details I did, or the bone-deep knowledge, but she knew for a fact something was wrong with Jane.  She wanted to find out what.  At the time it was out of a sense of obligation.  After all, she had missed for almost six months that her cousin felt guilty for her execution.  It started as duty and finished as one of the closest bonds Anne built in her second lifetime.  </p><p>	Those two weeks Anne tried to force herself to sit still while Jane stress-baked in her rare free moments and did her best to get Jane to tell her what was eating away at her.  But Jane did not think she deserved help.  Not yet, she had to atone more.  Until the notebook was full, she thought.  Then she would ask for help if she believed it necessary.</p><p>	Anne's concern for Jane was growing.  She thought of going to Anna first; but Anna was too busy dealing with Katherine's aftermath to spare a moment for Jane.  Then Anne came to me, two days or so before discovering the notebook.  I must have come across as snippy or distant, because she left my room with a rushed apology mid-sentence.  I was uncomfortable around her; not because of her.  But she did not know yet.</p><p>	It was Saturday, I think, and Anna and Lina were playing Scrabble in the kitchen.  Lina requested my assistance in finding a word.  Even though I insisted that was technically cheating and I could not help her, Anna didn't let me finish.  She said if Lina was going to get a helper, so did she.  She called Katherine and draped an arm around her shoulders.  Katherine looked like she'd seen a ghost.  She hadn't recovered from being reminded of the “love” she was used to, she was terrified that Anna would do it to her as well.</p><p>	Seeing as I apparently had to stay with Lina now that the game had turned to a team project, I took a seat too.  My focus was on Anna and Katherine, though.  The love-filled looks Anna gave Kitty, the way she leant her head on Kitty's gently.  How Katherine's smiles were fake as peeling paint.  I could almost see what was hidden underneath through her hollow eyes.  </p><p>	And then Anne barged in, notebook in hand.  For the first time since waking up she had no qualms about sharing a room with Lina.  She came to the table and put the book down. </p><p>	“Jane's not okay.”</p><p>	Lina, Katherine and I made to grab it at once.  Lina got it first.</p><p>	The title was a crudely scrawled sentence on the “This book belongs to:” sticker.  It read “Sins to atone for”.  Or that's what we deciphered after a good minute of analyzing the scribbles.</p><p>	The pages had one or two words together at most.  She had written them as a list, in columns.  Two pages were full, and the third one had a few lines filled with adjectives.  </p><p>	Those were the words she had inked in.  All of them negative, all of them self-deprecating.  She had chosen a red pen, for some reason.  It was gruesomely metaphorical, as if she had written in her own blood, in the same blood her broken heart pumped.</p><p>	“Ungrateful.  Stupid.  Illiterate.  Lazy.  Cruel.  Manipulative.  Rude.  Cold.  Uncooperative.  Slow.”</p><p>	And so, so many more.  I can't bear to relay the more... descriptive ones, for lack of a better term.  Jane had put so much time into insulting herself, wallowing in her misery. She never did say how long she spent looking at the list, hating herself more with each word.</p><p>	Before I had the chance to recover, before my heart stopped racing, Anne explained she had checked in on Jane as she seemed to be having a nightmare.  She hadn't meant to pry, but the book was on her chest.  It was already odd that she was still asleep after her alarm clock sounded.  When Anne read the title she could not ignore her cousin's aching.</p><p>	“...Is it my fault?” Katherine said, voice as empty as her eyes.  “Because I made her feel guilty over nothing?”</p><p>	Anna pulled her into such a desperate embrace, as if her arms could protect Katherine from her own mind.  </p><p>	The unanimous consensus, obviously, was that it was not Katherine's fault.  She seemed surprised to find such undebated support.  We proceeded to discuss what to do.  Even Anna, who always looked at people who hurt Katherine as if she wished to burn them with her gaze alone, was cooperative and sympathetic.</p><p>	I don't think she, or anyone else for that mattered, needed to know about Jane's upbringing to understand what she was suffering.  To a lesser extent perhaps, we had all been manipulated the first time round.  At the very least by our ex-husband, if not by our families as well.</p><p>	We decided to do all of Jane's chores that day, before she woke up.  We distributed the work evenly.  As soon as she got up we would have to call another family meeting.  </p><p>	Or, household meeting back then.  We weren't a family at one point.  Some times that is hard to register.</p><p>	Exhaustion had taken a hold of Jane.  She staggered down stairs close to midday, apologizing a mile an hour for her tardiness.  When we told her we needed to talk to her she nodded and said she deserved it.</p><p>	She thought we were going to reprimand her.  Her eyes harboured such sad acceptance.</p><p>	That conversation was the textbook definition of an uphill battle.  Never had I been more glad to share a house with other people.  I could not handle the talking, not when Jane was about as open to accept help as the flower buds refusing to give in to the spring warmth outside.</p><p>	I just wanted to get up and write something else for her; but seeing as she referred to herself as illiterate coupled with her bad hand writing I had to assume she had difficulties reading.  I was not being useful in the slightest in that room and I was growing restless.  I had to do something, Mae.  Seeing Jane suffer gave me the same sympathy response as seeing a puppy in distress.</p><p>	I think my fixation with written words gave me the solution by accident.  She wasn't illiterate, she couldn't be.  She had written quite a lot in that notebook.  She had her own business.  She obviously knew how to read and spell, it was just harder for her, for whichever reason.</p><p>	If just sitting around made me useless I looked for a use for myself.  One of the readers of the blog I used to write for left a comment once that seemed irrelevant at the time.  Something about them having found out that there are specific fonts for dyslexic people that may help them read with more ease through our blog.  </p><p>	I pulled out my phone and started searching.  I blocked everyone around me out, focusing solely on bringing Jane any respite.  It seems, as I would later be informed, that I cut someone off mid-sentence shoving my phone into Jane's hands and asking her if she could read what was on screen.  It was a sample text, something about planets.  But it got Jane to calm down.  She looked at my phone as if I had cast a spell on it.  She got stuck on parts, but it was more fluid reading than she had achieved in her new body.</p><p>	That was when I told her about Dyslexia.  She wasn't illiterate, or stupid.  She had a difficulty, that was all.</p><p>	She looked so confused.  She was convinced it was a personal flaw, something she wasn't doing right like every other item on her list.  My intermission served for Anna to propose that maybe if she had been wrong about that, who was to say she was not wrong about every other word she attributed to herself?</p><p>	Jane was so skeptical.  Skeptical to believe she had Dyslexia, skeptical to think she could be incorrect.  And Lina, in turn, took advantage of her hesitation to propose she see a therapist.  It's their job, after all, to see things objectively.  So many things that felt like life and death to Lina before starting therapy her psychologist had untangled for her, showing her they weren't all that important. </p><p>	Looking back on it, we made a pretty good team to calm Jane down.  And that was before we started actively and purposefully working together. </p><p>	I think Jane is the only person I know who started therapy not to recover; but out of an intense desire to have her self-loathing validated by a therapist.  Of course, no such thing happened.  There was absolutely nothing to despise about your auntie.  You would know, from what little you remember of her.  But even for those years you were too young to form memories I can attest to it.  Janey was...</p><p>	Are you familiar with the concept of a “gentle giant”, my princess?  They're a character trope in literature in which a very large person is the most unthreatening and dangerous fellow.  Well, I don't know what your memories of Jane must be like.  You were so small when she died I assume you found her to be huge like all adults.  And while that is a semi-accurate assessment, I will have you know Jane was very, very tall.  Almost as tall as Anna, but instead of being all muscle she was all soft curves.  She towered above Lina and was even a bit taller than auntie Anne.  And myself, obviously.</p><p>	Every inch of her height was filled with gentle kindness.  I know I have painted a less than flattering portrait of her thus far, but do understand, please.  There was no “hidden dark side” to your dearest auntie.  She was genuine and spontaneous.  She was every warm feeling you remember she produced in you, every compliment she used to build you up and every loving embrace she held you in.  I cannot stress enough how lovely she was.  How it felt to curl up beside her after a nightmare in the middle of the night, how safe her arms made me feel.</p><p>	In the end, after Jane agreed to visits Lina's therapist to prove to us all she did not deserve our concern, Katherine walked up to her and asked her if she needed a hug.  “You look like you need one.”</p><p>	Jane hesitated, but gave in.  Anne asked if she could join in.  After being granted permission, she held both her cousins at the same time for the first time.</p><p>	It struck me then it was the third time all six of us had a conversation.  This time it wasn't to separate, or to organize the house.  It was to support one of us.  As I watched Anne smile and Janey's happy tears I thought they looked like a family.</p><p>	I also thought it would be nice to have that in my life.</p><p>	Of course, I did not deserve it.  Not after what I had done to Anne's daughter.</p><p>	So I took after Jane and decided to become deserving.  I could not relieve the pain my negligence caused in Lizzie.  But maybe perhaps I could make Katherine's eyes sparkle like they had when Jane apologized.  I needed to show her that I was really sorry.  Words hadn't cut it when Lina apologized to me, and Jane gave me another idea: apologizing tangibly.  Instead of working myself to the bone, which was counterproductive, I could do something nice for Katherine instead of saying something nice to her.  After that I would tell Anne the truth.  </p><p>	The fact that we were two weeks away from May hit me hard watching their heart-warming group hug.  Very soon I would not be in that house.  I would not wake to Lina's toast, to the scent of recently brewed coffee and Anne and Kitty's soft giggles.  I wouldn't share curt nods with Anna in the hallway, would not see Jane's smile anymore.</p><p>	It was terrifying.  I would have never thought I would wish for time to slow so I could stay with them a little longer.  And yet there I was, feeling like a part of myself was missing because very soon I would not see those women again.</p><p>	A little thought gave me hope, though.  If they were all growing close then maybe just maybe they would stay a little longer, right?  And if they all did that would give me the excuse to, as well.  If only for the economic aspect.  Everyone had to pull their weight, it was not the cheapest house to rent.</p><p>	I couldn't read Anna's face as she watched.  She would later explain she was surprised to see Katherine so willing to be openly vulnerable with others.  You see, Mae, for simplicity's sake I have severely underdescribed how Anne and Anna's relationship was.  They did not start on friendly terms; but rather they grew to care for each other over time.  They tolerated each other out of a desire to spend time with Katherine.  Apparently it was at that moment that Anna realized Anne was a caring cousin, and maybe she was worth a legitimate shot at befriending.</p><p>	Kitty shook herself off like a wet dog when she pulled away from her cousins.  She sank beside Anna on the sofa and, now that all had been settled and Jane was feeling better, she pulled Anna by the sleeve and up the stairs.  </p><p>	Lina was the next to take the leave, no need for her to tolerate Anne any longer.  Her sour expression as she went to do the dishes kind of broke the spell.  Things were better, but there was still a long way to go.</p><p>	And still, it kind of felt like we were on the right path.  I left Anne and Jane to their business.  Anne insisted Jane was to take care of herself all weekend long and that the two of them would go over Jane's inventory together to unburden her load.</p><p>	Anna and Kitty were talking in front of Anna's door in hushed whispers by the time I got to the second floor.  What Katherine said shattered the prospect of continuing to live in that house with all of them.</p><p>	“I don't understand” Anna said.  “I thought you liked your cousins.”</p><p>	Kitty shook her head.  “And I do, but please.  I need to get out of here.  Promise me we'll look at more apartments.  Please.”</p><p>	...Of course there was no sense of unity.  It was just in my head.  Why would the rest want to prolong this torture?  The goal had always been to split paths at the earliest chance.</p><p>	In reality there was a sense of unity, I was not the only one reluctant to leave.  Even if relationships are tense and rocky, there's a familiarity you only receive from the people you were reincarnated with.  It's one of those inherently unifying experiences.  Think of how Hermione could not help but be Harry and Ron's friend after the troll incident.  It was kind of like that, but so much more layered and complex.</p><p>	Again, I would not learn of the others' tribulations until much later; or of Katherine's reasoning at the time and why growing close to people terrified her.  I simply thought she did not like Lina and myself.</p><p>	No, the whole 'living together as a family' had been but a daydream, or so I thought.  One so fleeting it barely lasted three minutes.  However, that did not mean I could not try to mend my errors.  I owed Katherine an apology and Anne some honesty.  If I was to part ways with them, at the very least I would do it right.</p><p>	Later that day I bumped into Anne.  She gave me that impossibly wide and bright smile of hers and thanked me for helping Jane.  Then she got this sheepish expression and said:</p><p>	“You seem nice enough.  Maybe you'd want to hang out with Janey more often?   She really likes you.  And, uhh, if you ever want to, you could tell me why you don't like me?  Maybe we can work it out.”</p><p>	I had to be honest with her, that settled it.  As soon as I apologized to Katherine.  Who knew?  Maybe I would not get a family out of this, but a few friends would be nice.  After all, unlike the rest of them, I had no contacts outside the house.  Working online has its benefits, but it does not create connections with people.  Who would I be with, if not with them?  I would be content just watching a family form around me without being a part of it.</p><p>	If second hand warmth was all I could have, I would take it.</p><p>	From that day forwards, things got positively better for Jane.  Her therapist confirmed our thoughts, not hers.  And very little by little, she stopped holding herself to unrealistic standards that would work her to the grave.  Learning to cope with Dyslexia helped quite a lot too.  She started accepting help.  With so much toil, our beloved Janey started on her own torturous path to recovery.</p><p>	Some days later she bought me a book as thanks.  We hadn't really talked much since that Saturday.  It was “The Book Thief”, by Markus Zusak.  I had already read it and had a copy, but I kept Jane's.  A gift felt so special.  I gave her mine instead and proposed we read it together.  Little by little, at her pace, and only if she felt like it.</p><p>	She declined.  She hadn't even started working through her Dyslexia yet.  Months later, once we were an established family, she would bring the book to my room once more and ask me if my offer still stood.</p><p>	Needless to say, it did.  There were few things I was unwilling to do beside Jane.  I wish I could have spent much more time with her, that our time together had never ended.</p><p>        By the way, in case you were wondering, Jane's so called diary wound up in ashes in our fireplace.  Anne never admitted to it, but honestly...  Do you suspect anyone else?  Neither do we.</p><p>	The schedule that had wound up helping Lina so much hurt Jane a little in the end.  Her desire to prove herself worthy almost got her to collapse from exhaustion.  But that tale had a happy ending, after all.  She came out stronger, willing to let herself be helped.  She learnt to love herself and, if she did see Thomas trying to rear his ugly head through her, she stomped him down with her kindness.</p><p>	That state of calm the house was in after Jane agreed to therapy and the cousins started to come together would not last.  Very soon after, in May, it would be Anne's turn to come undone.  </p><p>	You know what, my girl?  Come to think of it, I don't believe if Anne's breakdown had taken place then, in the first weeks of May, that we would have continued living together.  I believe her aching was a pivotal point in keeping the six of us under the same roof.</p><p>	If not to stay beside Anne as she recovered from her hospitalization, I am certain Katherine and Anna would have left without a second thought.  And, potentially, Lina and myself as well.</p><p>	Let's move on, then, Mae.  Let me explain what caused my poor Annie to break apart.</p><p>	It may not be what you expect it to be; or at least not in the way you expect it to play out.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And done!  Honestly i was (and still kind of am) very insecure about this chapter.  Writing it felt like torture a lot of the time because i got so insecure about it around half way through.  Any criticism is accepted and welcome; and all interactions make me smile quite a lot!  Tell me what you think if you'd like, please~!!  I hope everyone has a great day, take care!! ♥</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Pancake Incident</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi!!  Sorry for the late update, this took a while longer than i was expecting.  The thing about this fic is it's what i use to relax from my main and original project.  Said project involves a lot of planning ahead and putting that level of thought into my lovechild (this fic) defeats the purpose of winding down.  The downside, however, is that while i have a general sense of direction for where the story's going individual chapters can be a bit more challenging.  But anyways, enough of me rambling.</p><p>This was meant to be one chapter but ~20000 words is where i draw the line, so i broke it into two parts: this one and the next chapter.  Which is already written i just have to publish it when i'm done with this.</p><p>I don't think any warnings apply for this.  Oh wait nvm: CSA survivor blaming herself for the abuse she endured and Autistic character getting stressed out.  But i don't think i've gone overboard with either point.  The first one is more an allusion than anything and the second one isn't anything i haven't described in previous chapters.  Still, if i'm wrong, feel free to correct me and i'll edit this.</p><p>Thank you for your time, enjoy~!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>May was a very hectic month.  Lina was occupied with finals.  By proxy, so was Katherine although in a very different manner.  Jane was still receiving and sorting what she had ordered with Anne's help.  Anna had been promoted from gym assistant to cardio instructor and was planning her new classes.  I don't think there has ever been a day in which your auntie Anne hasn't been busy with work.  I don't recall having ever told you that the clinic she works at is the only exotic pet-specialized vet in this part of town.  Yes, one can find veterinarians with relative ease; but for rarer pets Anne's clinic is their only salvation in this area.  And I believe there's only three vets other than your auntie working there.</p><p>	As for myself, I had an article to finish.  I can't really remember what it was about; something regarding a museum exhibit maybe.  The fear of moving out by myself had paralyzed me, though.  It was such a change that I had forgotten to account for.  My days were trapped in a loop of little sleep, looking for flats, berating myself for not working and remaining stuck in daydreams of being helpless and alone.  I could use appliances by myself, operate basically everything in a house and pay bills.  It was more minute things that made me uncomfortable.  Interacting with delivery people, getting phone calls, and the like.  Basically everything your mother does for me.</p><p>	At least that was what I wanted to believe.  That living by myself would be inconvenient and I hadn't planned with enough anticipation.  If I was focused on that it was easier to ignore the looming images of a completely silent house.  None of Anne and Katherine's laughter next door.  None of Jane's freshly baked goods.</p><p>	Definitely not Lina sitting next to me on the porch getting so adorably excited about her flowers.  I'd grown so fond of her little garden.  Some times I go there to think even now.  </p><p>	If you've never had your auntie have a serious talk with you about her garden, try convincing her to if you're still on time.  If she is still alive, you will not regret it.  She always avoids talking about her flowers because, in her words, she does not wish to bore people with her rants.  Yet there are few things as soul lifting and joy inducing as seeing Lina point at the delicate plants and give you all the information she knows on species, care and her opinion on them.</p><p>	Trust me, do it.  It will make a beautiful memory you will want to have and treasure.</p><p>	It was so strange.  After so many months of focusing on nothing but that moment in which I could supposedly leave I dreaded every passing hour.  Days ended too quickly, my small interactions were all too short.  Lina came by my room to see me and left too fast.</p><p>	Those were our final moments together and nobody seemed to care.  Everyone was caught up in their lives, moving forwards.  Moving towards a future I did not like.</p><p>	That wasn't quite the reality.  Just like auntie Kitty did not wish to move out as much as she was begging Anna to, everyone else would later on admit to their reasons for wanting to stay.  Jane had just gotten Anne back, something she thought she would never achieve.  Anna was fonder of Lina and later on Anne than she cared to admit at the time; if only having them as flatmates was enough for her to want to stay.  Katherine loved her cousins more than she wanted to.</p><p>	And Anne found a family.  Even if it was only in Katherine at first.  She grew to care for Janey very fast, too.  And how could she not?  Even her attempts at befriending me were a last ditch effort to try imbuing the whole house with a sense of companionship and friendship.</p><p>	But we were not ready to be that open yet.  In our own ways we each feared rejection, mockery or outright anger from our...  Flatmates?  Friends?  A strange hybrid of both.  We did not wish to anger anyone, that's the lowdown.</p><p>	It happened to turn out I wasn't the only one looking for flats last minute.  Everyone except for Anna and Katherine had waited as well.  At first because there was still enough time and our new lives were too consuming.  Later on because nobody really wanted to leave.</p><p>	One day, not even a special one, I got up at noon after going to sleep sunrise and went downstairs.  Everyone was working, I had the house to myself.  I should have written my article, but I had no motivation to do that and all the motivation to do something that would alleviate the loneliness that was consuming me.</p><p>	Your auntie Katherine loved, absolutely adored, chocolate chip pancakes.  I figured that was as good a way as any other to apologize.  I did not know what else she liked.  I did not sit next to her like Anne and Anna did to help her with homework.  I didn't get to see her at school, like Lina.  The only detail I knew about Katherine was that she liked chocolate chip pancakes, so it would have to do.</p><p>	Of course, you are my daughter, and as such you know that if you want anything sweet baked it is for the greater good you ask literally anybody else.  I am a catastrophe in the kitchen; pots and pans are not my natural environment.  I was not designed to mix ingredients together.  I can fix a sink and even repair most kitchen appliances.  But using them for their intended purpose is not an ability I possess.</p><p>	Then again, I figured it was just pancakes.  That it could not possibly be that hard.  How challenging could a simple breakfast be?</p><p>	The short answer is quite.  Quite challenging.  There's a good reason I have never made you pancakes and this was the moment it was revealed to the entire household it is safer for everyone if I keep myself away from the kitchen.  Reheating is my only culinary talent.</p><p>	I followed the recipe.  I followed it five times before getting something similar to a pancake.  I do not remember in which order these happened, but I messed up the ingredients, accidentally burnt, dropped and spilt the previous attempts.  Then I figured I could certainly do better.  The shape was off, the texture was too dusty.</p><p>	The packet of flour broke on my sixth try, making as much of a mess as you are envisioning.  Yes, laugh.  It is fine, when I think about this I laugh as well.  I am smiling as I write this.  Calamity Cathy should be my cook name.</p><p>	I was so engrossed in fixing the powdery disaster that I did not notice the front door opening.  You were a baby when we lost the old house, so I doubt you remember its layout.  The kitchen was on the opposite side of the main entrance.  It was already easy enough to miss the door's quiet click.  </p><p>	I did not want anyone seeing me in such a state.  I would have only been half comfortable with Lina helping me out.  The sight of Katherine, one eyebrow raised, in her school uniform with her bag still hanging from her shoulder made me wish for the ground to open up and swallow me whole.</p><p>	Why, of all people, was Katherine early?  She usually came home in the late afternoon, when Anne and Anna would come back from their shifts.  Kitty preferred studying at the library than being home alone with me.</p><p>	Which was reasonable enough.</p><p>	Keep in mind my baking spree had been a completely impulsive act.  Impulsive actions are not my area of expertise, I hadn't even had the time to think how I would go about telling Katherine this was my pathetic attempt at an apology.  So I didn't.  I just... stayed there, I guess.  Waiting.  For what I am not certain.</p><p>	What I am positive about is that I was not expecting was Katherine to put her bag on a chair and join me at a reasonable distance, asking if I wanted help.  It was a disaster of a situation, Mae.  The pancakes were supposed to be something nice for her; not something she had to clean up.  It was a poorly thought out way of saying “here, I put time and effort into doing something you like because I find words alone meaningless.”</p><p>	The state of affairs was stressful and awkward, but if I had made it through her death day without going non-verbal I would make it through this.  Granted, on her death day I did not actually have to talk face to face to the child I had called several slurs multiple times.  I was on the verge of having a meltdown, that burning sensation that if one more thing went wrong I would need hours to recover from the blow.</p><p>	“...I'm sorry.  For, uhm, everything” she said, rather hesitantly.  “I'll just... go...”</p><p>	Stress wasn't my sweet Kitty's strongest point, either.  By “everything”, although she would not explain until months later, she meant my marriage to Henry.  Yes, Katherine blamed herself for her beheading.  And for Lady Rochford's.  And by extension for Henry having set his sights on me.  And following that (flawed) line of thought, for everything that Lizzie suffered at Thomas' hands.  Not that she knew of that last part yet.</p><p>	But that conversation would take place long after the pancake incident, in the warm summer months after she grew to trust me enough we would curl up on her bed and read together.  I read faster than her, you know?  Sometimes as I waited for her to finish a page I would just nuzzle up to her while she caught up.  If she was feeling particularly cuddly she would giggle in her sweet little voice and give me a kiss on the cheek.  </p><p>	She was so easy to love.  There was nothing to hate about her, I don't understand how I could be so cruel to her.</p><p>	I half-screamed at her half-bluttered that she didn't have to apologize, that I was apologizing.  She stopped dead in her tracks and asked why in a tiny voice, so confused.  When I told her my intentions with making pancakes and that I was sorry for the horrible, out of line things I had said to her, she smiled.  A true, genuine smile.  I thought she was flattered two people cared enough to apologize, that it was a Jane repeat scenario.</p><p>	“Why are you sorry?” she said instead.  “You're right about everything.”</p><p>	I wanted to say so many things.  No, I wasn't right.  I had been unbelievably cruel, she did not deserve to be treated the way I had.  She was a child, it could have never been her fault.  She was kind, forgiving and always willing to help others.  Even people she had no connection to, like Lina or Jane.</p><p>	My beloved Kitty was an angel, Mae.  I am very sorry you were so young when you met her, your memories of her are terribly blurry.  It is such a shame.  She loved you so much and you always, always wanted to be with her when you were upset.  She'd let you sit on her lap and told you stories.  She drew with you and you played dolls together every chance the two of you had to be together.  Sometimes she would build small blanket forts for Lizzie, Eddie and you and she would let the three of you boss her around all evening long.</p><p>	Anyways, I wanted to say a lot of things but the words were forming in the wrong place again.  I needed to write them down, the only way the apology could be remotely salvageable at that point was if I explained eloquently what I had in mind.</p><p>	Katherine didn't quite let me get away with that, though.  Instead she said if I really wanted to apologize there was something I could do for her.</p><p>	“Let me clean up, please.  You're clearly very uncomfortable with the flour on your hands.”</p><p>	That much was true.  One of the biggest reasons I am such a bad cook is my problem with textures.  Most foods and ingredients are just wrong.  Too clammy, or slimy, or coarse or powdery.  I hate feeling them, so I try to rush through cooking as fast as I can.  I must have been patting my hands against my pants to get the flour off or something similar that cued Katherine to my discomfort.</p><p>	But that aside, it made no sense to me.  How was I doing her a favour by letting her do me a favour?  It was not a concept that seemed reasonable to me.  My mess; my problem.</p><p>	Except Katherine was every bit hard-headed than she was sweet.  And if she was sweet enough to induce a figurative sugar rush she was strong-headed enough to give anyone migraines if she put herself to it.</p><p>	She simply would not budge.  She was going to clean up and that was final.  She was so determined she did not change out of her uniform in her haste to begin, making the task so much more difficult for her as she tried her best not to get it dirty.</p><p>	The more I saw that she was actually cleaning up my mess and happily at that the more distressed I got.  On the one hand, it was wrong and I should be cleaning up.  On the other, she had specifically asked for this, for some reason.  </p><p>	Basically I fled to my room before confusion blinded me and sent every sense in my body into hyperdrive.  I may not have known what sensory overload or ASD were at the time, but I was definitely getting good at making out patterns and warning signs.  I had a lot to sort out and the easiest way to do that was (still is) with a computer screen in front of me and a keyboard beneath my fingers.</p><p>	Long after I left the kitchen and I assumed Katherine must have finished cleaning up and gone to her room, she knocked on my door.  I had a few lines of my written apology left and did not particularly feel like leaving them unfinished, so even after I told her to come in I continued writing.  It was already disconcerting enough that I would not have time to proof read it before showing it to her, assuming she wanted to spend time reading anything I had written.</p><p>	I was in no position to demand that of her, either.</p><p>	She let herself in silently and waited until I turned around in my chair.  To my surprise she was still wearing her uniform.  She hated it, she got out of it at the earliest possible convenience.</p><p>	“I... may have made pancakes.  Since you seemed interested in... well... pancakes.”</p><p>	I still find the way she phrased it bizarre.  I understand people being vague if they have done something wrong and are trying to postpone the consequences as long as possible.  Otherwise it strikes me as needlessly confusing.  Granted people do it, and of that I am well aware, but at the beginning of this brand new body hyperanalyzing every aspect of social interaction hadn't become second nature yet.  So I asked her, dead serious, if she had.  And if she had, what she wanted from me.</p><p>	I'm not sure who was more confused, Katherine or I.  Apparently she was anxious about my reaction and my confusion and being asked to verbalize her reasoning stressed her out even more.</p><p>	If you think that exchange was awkward and uncomfortable strap in, my girl.  It got worse.</p><p>	After Katherine explained, kindly yet still very obviously disoriented, that she had in fact made pancakes and that she was hoping to share them with me I told her I didn't really want any.  This may seem obviously tactless to you but I was just being honest and had no ill intent.  Then again Katherine didn't know about my social struggles and was even more distressed: if I wanted to do something to share with her, despite the fact that it backfired, why was I being difficult about her fixing it for me?</p><p>	I don't think she was aware there was no sharing intended.  It was just something nice for her.  A crucial difference.</p><p>	I guess the way in which I, stressed out beyond belief myself, got up and practically shoved a sheet of paper into her hands, did not help.  But I just wanted it to end.  I did not know why she was upset about my lack of appetite.  The whole situation had gone to hell in a hand basket and in the end she was more distraught than if I had just left things be.  I wanted to lock myself in my room and not interact with anybody ever again.</p><p>	An exaggeration, of course.  But I was “becoming a hermit sounds appealing” levels of overwhelmed.</p><p>	The scene was staggering for me but for her it must have been as well.  Still she did not make a scene and just read my letter with as much calmness as she could muster.  I expected her to be reasonably mad at me.  I made sure to point out how inappropriate my initial behaviour towards her had been, since she seemed not to find any problems with it earlier.  If it was literally spelled out for her she must realize how cruel I had been.</p><p>	Well, no.  It would take therapy for that to happen.  And still I doubt whether therapy helped at all or she just got better at quieting the voice that insisted she deserved it.</p><p>	Your auntie did not get mad at me.  She just thanked me for putting so much effort into the apology.  She was still verbally confused as to why I felt the need to apologize to “something” like her.  I'm quite sure it was a slip of the mind, that she did not intend to be that open with me of all people.  Dehumanizing herself was just a given for her.</p><p>	It was that, coupled with getting very concerned about her assumption that she deserved to be insulted, that convinced me to go downstairs with her.  She muttered something about having a pancake since she had bothered to make them as she scurried out of my room before the ambiance got tenser.  I decided to join her with as much thought as five seconds can provide.  I had no idea if she wanted me to, if she liked me, what we would talk about, if we would talk at all...  But her demeanor unsettled me so much, and she was visibly flustered and vulnerable.  I didn't want to leave her alone.</p><p>	Come to think of it, it was almost as if I had the instinct that leaving her to her own thoughts could harm her.  I wish it had been a much more intense premonition, one that I could not misinterpret or ignore.</p><p>	We sat in intensely uncomfortable silence.  I did not want any pancakes, so she just ate alone, casting glances at me every so often.  I wanted to do something to break the tension but it seemed that not even writing would spare me the stress.  I had no words to say or type, no questions to ask.  With every passing second I berated myself more and more for having acted on instinct twice.  I'd woken up but a few hours ago and I already needed a nap.</p><p>	When my discomfort with the situation was turning physical as my skin started to feel scratchy, Katherine asked about my job.  Well, she asked if she was allowed to ask, as if I would reprimand her for taking interest in me.  Her query lead to her asking if I liked said job, which wound up in her wondering if I wrote anything of my own in all the hours I spent in front of my laptop.</p><p>	I did not mean to ramble, I never do.  But apparently the others find my passionate speeches as endearing as I do theirs.  Katherine was a great listener, absolutely wonderful.  She nodded me along, asked all the right questions and just let me talk uninterrupted.  She cared about what I was doing, she was not zoned out or just putting up with me.  We had a genuine conversation.</p><p>	I hadn't really discussed my love for writing with anyone, not even Lina.  I am quick to assume I bore people with my special interests, I always bite my tongue when I feel the urge to talk about them.  If I am really excited, or if I want a second opinion, I ask if anybody wants to listen.  But it took a long time and a lot of reassurance that I would not annoy the others for me to get to this point.  Back then my was convinced if I started telling Lina about the fictional worlds, cultures and people in my head I was bound to drive her away.  I kept my universe trapped in my laptop, my characters' lives reserved for my eyes alone.</p><p>	I know not what will spark that joy in you, my girl.  If you will take after me and it will be writing, or if it will be creative work of any type.  Maybe you happen to be a scientist, or something I haven't thought of.  Whatever it is that you find brings you happiness in its purest form I wish you the best luck in pursuing and achieving.  Once you have your passion (or passions!  Many things can make you happy in different ways) you will understand the thrill of discussing it.  Of getting into minute detail about the topic you most vehemently adore.  The excitement that drives you to speak faster than you can form words, the bubble of happiness in your chest that makes it feel like your heart were soaring.  You will probably be able to ramble for hours upon hours until you feel bad for talking someone's ear off.</p><p>	On the flipside, few things parallel the soft warmth of seeing someone in such a joyful state.  I could listen to your mother talk to her heart's content about human anatomy, or Lina about her flowers.  When I am sad sometimes I seek out auntie Annie to listen to her tell me about the animals she loves and their biology.  Anne is a warm ray of sunshine on a rainy day when she is happy.</p><p>	And, back in the day, I adored listening to Jane go on about yarn and baking.  And most definitely listening to Katherine speak of music and history.</p><p>	Anyways, that was the dynamic Katherine and I had going on.  I was overjoyed to finally let all the stories building up inside of me out, and Katherine was enjoying seeing me come out of my shell with her.</p><p>	Well, that may be a bit oversimplified.  For the first time since we woke up Katherine had approached me for reasons other than kindness.  To keep this short she had hoped I would be cruel to her to dread this house and want to leave.  Up until that point she desired to be elsewhere fueled solely by her fear of caring about people.  Her affection for Anne and Jane countered that, so she figured a dose of rudeness from me could help her make up her mind.</p><p>	The exact opposite happened, and apparently her immediate reaction was to curse herself because she walked away from that conversation with three book recommendations and the name of the blog I worked for so she could read my articles.</p><p>	As you can imagine the kitchen was very cheery when Anne and Anna came back.  We didn't have the van back then, and auntie Anne did not have her motorbike, so she depended on public transportation to get to the clinic and back.  Ever since Anna decided she wanted to honestly befriend Anne she offered to be her ride.  Their relationship was going very well, and that particular day the both of them were laughing as they walked in.</p><p>	When Anna saw me talking to Katherine, the laughter faded.  Think about how close Anna and Katherine were, how protective Anna was of her.  Do you believe seeing her get close to me left Anna indifferent?  </p><p>	It did not.  She was quite displeased, thinking I would just hurt Katherine again.  Your mother did not trust me with Kitty and for that I cannot blame her.  If the roles had been reversed I would have been mistrusting of her as well.</p><p>	The situation got worse when Anne, oblivious to the tension between Anna and me, joined in and grabbed a pancake, asking what we were talking about.  That was the pivotal point in the creation of the mess that was about to ensue.</p><p>	The mess Annie wound up paying the price for.  Anna never meant for everything that happened to her friend afterwards.  She made a very bad decision guided by a mixture of ire and good intentions.  She has never told me or anyone that I am aware of, but if I know my Anna at all she still feels guilty about how poorly she handled everything.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And there's that!  Going to publish the main chapter now, brb~!!  (I have spent over two hours editing both chapters and i am tired and nervous)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Infectious Self-Hatred</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And i'm back!   Very sorry i was in such a rush to get these chapters out before i'm called for lunch i almost forgot to thank everyone who interacts with this fic.  Seriously all kudos and comments mean the world to me, you're the best.</p><p>Also i think i'm going to definitively tag this as an AU.  For one because it seems to be fanon that the show exists.  Secondly because a lot of the historical inaccuracies bank on me imagining how these people lived and felt.  I have not done enough research to accurately know that; this is more of a "if they were how i imagine them to be, this would be how they'd act" fic.  Also reincarnation is a thing so yes, most definitely an AU from both a historical standpoint and a fanon one.</p><p>CWs FOR THIS CHAPTER:</p><p>-Sepsis (blood infection, not too descript, not leading to organ failure -caught on time-)<br/>-Near death experience<br/>-Hospitalization<br/>-Self-loathing<br/>-Character hating herself so much she stops taking care<br/>-Brief mention of a wound (nondescript)<br/>-Animal bite (bird, specifically)<br/>-Thomas Seymour and Lizzie (as usual nondescript)<br/>-A bit of Kitty's story as well (briefly mentioned, mostly skimmed over)<br/>-Mentions of Mary, what she did and how she went down in history<br/>-Characters being conflicted in regard to how to feel about the above point<br/>-Character blaming herself for events that were out of her control<br/>-ADHD character suffering from Emotional Dysregulation<br/>-Mentions of beheading (Anne's death day, nondescript)<br/>-A bit of blood (if Kitty's death day was bearable this should be a walk in the park)<br/>-Allusions to medical negligence and medical trauma<br/>-Mentioned phantom pains<br/>-Character with undiagnosed ADHD<br/>-A whole lot of guilt</p><p>I think that does it all.  As always thank you for your time, i hope you can enjoy ^^</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first thing Anna did was walk out of the kitchen.  Katherine caught on and excused herself in a rush.  Anne stayed with me in awkward silence.  I did not know what to say, or what to do.  I had already used up all my unexpected event energy for the day.  Following up on her attempts to strike a friendly conversation without telling her the truth about Lizzie first felt dishonest, however.  So I too excused myself and went to my room.  I had to finish an article, after all.  I just needed a nap first.  Then I could work on telling Anne the truth in the most tactful way possible.</p><p>	Your mother spared me that trouble.</p><p>	Katherine caught up to her in the hall.  Anna snapped at her for trusting me, calling her something to the effect of “naive”.  As someone who had been treated as a brainless and foolish child leading up to her death your auntie did not take kindly to that in the slightest.  The retelling of the events later on got a bit blurred, seeing as so many things were happening at once and so many strong emotions were involved.  I will do my best to convey a clear succession of events.</p><p>	After Kitty, highly upset, marched to her room and away from your mother, Anne went upstairs shortly after I retreated.  Anne saw her baby cousin distraught, so she went to offer support and investigate.  Katherine shook her off, nowhere near ready to be vulnerable with her yet, as Anna had second thoughts and went after Kitty to apologize.  Yes, she thought Katherine was being innocent by deeming me trustworthy; but she hadn't meant to phrase it to sound like she was easy to take advantage of and remind her of all the things that tormented her.</p><p>	So the three of them were in the hallway.  Katherine asked Anna to stay away from her.  Anna tried to go after her regardless at an unthreatening reach, she was not going to touch her without her consent.  Anne did not know that, however, seeing as the two were just starting to get along and know each other, so she stepped between Anna and Kitty.  It seems she asked Anna something like “What's your problem?”</p><p>	The question made Anna snap.  She said, in no uncertain terms, that her problem was that I, a child abuser enabler, was trying to get close to Katherine and was the reason Lizzie got hurt.</p><p>	Before moving on let me tell you my defense: I have none.  Anna was entirely right.  I had been an enabler.  I had seen it happen and done nothing.  However, I wasn't aware it was abuse.  I partook in more than one game that is highly questionable with Thomas and Lizzie, but I never saw them as more than games.  If anything I was happy my beloved Thomas and the girl I saw as my daughter were getting along so well.</p><p>	Is that an excuse?  No.  No, I deserve no redemption.  I should have done better, I should have been better for Lizzie.  But never in this life, nor in our last one, have I condoned any form of abuse.  I enabled Thomas in the sense that I did not stop him.  That responsibility is mine.  But when I saw the “games” for what they were I did my best to protect Lizzie.  I sent her far away from him.  Still it was not good enough and I am not trying to pretend it was.  Do not try to make excuses for me because I am your mother and you love me.  Facts are facts, and the facts are an innocent girl under my care was not taken care of appropriately and nobody realized until it was too late.</p><p>	The facts are also that I would have never done that knowingly.  A nuance, the results were the same, but Anna framed it as if I had participated in or even enjoyed what Thomas did.  That was not the case, I was revolted with him and especially myself as soon as realization hit.  Why else would I have sent Lizzie away?</p><p>	'Do not make excuses for me?'  I will rephrase that, my girl.  Feel free to be angry at me.  Do not forgive me if you do not wish to.  Hate me if you must.  I am the reason your sister got hurt.  You owe me no affection or loyalty.  Feel whichever emotions you need to feel.  All I can offer you is the certainty that it was not intentional harm and that I have lived with this regret during the end of my first life and the entirety of my second.</p><p>	If you'd like to stop reading here I would understand.  Worry not, I am keeping things as toned down as possible and will not delve into details.  I recommend you continue to learn of the events that lead to where we are today; but if you cannot stand me anymore I guess your siblings could give you an abridged version.  They were not here at the start, after all.  But do as you please.</p><p>	...Are you still here?</p><p>	Deep down I hope you are.  I hope you can find it in your heart to understand I never meant to hurt anyone.  I hope you can still love me.  No matter what you will always be my precious little girl.  Even if you were to despise me.</p><p>	Anna has recounted this story many times, always regretful.  Last time we talked about it was on a walk to the park.  She was staring at the ground when she asked if I'd forgiven her.  If I thought Anne had.</p><p>	If Katherine ever did.</p><p>	However you feel about the subject and my relation to it, it was objectively the wrong way to handle the situation.  Anne deserved to be told under any other circumstances, not to have that fact haphazardly thrown at her with little to no regards for how hard it hit her.  Katherine deserved to feel safe in her own house, she had no need to ever know about that.</p><p>	As for myself, while I never felt personally slighted by Anna's implication, she did feel like she had taken everything out of context.  She was close to Lizzie, after all.  As close as someone who wasn't her mother could be.  Anna knew first hand that I had done my best to distance Lizzie from Thomas as soon as I noticed.  She knew from Lizzie herself that I had never hurt her; or at least not knowingly.  The way your mother framed me when she dropped that bomb on Anne and Katherine she always considered to be inappropriate.</p><p>	I did not particularly mind, though.  Still don't.  I feel like any harm I can receive in the form of fallout is but a fraction of all that Lizzie endured.  Sure, Anna vilified me in a sense.  I do not care, that is fine by me in this particular case.  Even if the entire household hated me afterwards I would have understood.</p><p>	Two things happened at once.  Anne sort of froze, rooted to the spot as if she had forgotten how to move.  Katherine rushed to the bathroom, suddenly sick.  As far as she knew at the time, she had just been having a pleasant conversation with someone who could hurt her.  The house wasn't safe anymore, she was no longer safe.  Whichever sense of safety she had developed in those six months was torn from her.</p><p>	Inflicting so much pain with one simple sentence upon two of the people she cared for the most would haunt Anna, but more about her later.  She followed Katherine to the bathroom, as she could not get through to Anne.  She was unresponsive, staring at the air in front of her as if she could see her daughter standing there, accusing her for not having been around to protect her.</p><p>	Katherine did not want Anna anywhere near her.  She was very clear about that.  For six months Anna had let her live with a potential threat to her safety without giving her as much as a warning.  Anna wasn't always around to protect her; what if I had hurt her?  </p><p>	Anna, the one stable and safe presence for Katherine, had become a peril in her eyes.  She wasn't calm about it, either.  For all the serenity with which Katherine had handled every conflict up to that point losing trust in Anna turned her into a shrieking, shaking, sobbing wreck.</p><p>	The shock of seeing her dearest Kitty afraid of her stung like an open wound, but Anna could not waste any time.  If Katherine was not open to talking, she had to go to Anne.  But by the time Anna left the bathroom Anne had locked herself in the attic.</p><p>	I've talked around it with you both in real life and earlier in these pages.  Anne has ADHD and a rather strong case of Emotional Dysregulation.  The knowledge that her daughter had been harmed in one of the most brutal, cruelest ways possible caused Annie to shut down.  She could not find it in her to speak.  Every form of sensory input seemed to bother her.  She was perpetually uncomfortable and numb.</p><p>	She told me later, one day, as we talked about the similarities and differences between ADHD and ASD.  When her Emotional Dysregulation gets really out of hand her senses become very active.  Not as much as mine during a meltdown, apparently, but it isn't a competition.  Anne feels, in her words, “in suspended animation.”  Like there are so many emotions she should be feeling, she is aware of experiencing them, but she cannot bring herself to feel a single one.  As if there were an iron band around her heart not permitting it to beat.  Everything slows to a sudden stop in her active mind and all she can do is wait it out, breathing through it all.</p><p>	That was the state she spent almost an entire day in.  She went to her room, locked the door behind her and sat on the bed, then stared at a wall.  She thought of Lizzie, tried to imagine her pain.  She mulled over what she had done wrong to get herself beheaded, if there was anything she could have done differently to stay by her little one's side.  All of these very distressing thoughts caused no feelings in her.  She was numb, her hands growing cold with anxiety she was not feeling.  But she had no motivation to cover herself up.  She could just exist.</p><p>	I became aware that there was a problem hours later.  Yes, the rather loud conflict was happening right upstairs as I still remained in the kitchen.  Katherine had gotten up to follow Anna without washing her plate, so I was taking care of that.  However, I had ordered the most potent noise-cancelling headphones in the first weeks of my new life and rarely were they not around my neck.  As soon as I realized loud sounds hurt me and the screaming matches were frequent I knew I needed to find a remedy.  I was wearing them at the time and listening to white noise to boot.  </p><p>	By the time I went to my room the hall was empty, so I got in bed for that much needed nap.  Until Lina knocked on my door and then walked in upon hearing no reply I was blissfully unaware of the strife the rest were experiencing.</p><p>	Lina came back home that day to find Anna in the kitchen running an hand through her hair anxiously, looking distressed.  “Katherine and Anne don't want to talk to me” being the only explanation she gave.  Curious, Lina went upstairs.  Kitty was locked in her room, listening to music so loud Lina doubted she had heard the knocks on her door.  Anne was in her bedroom as well, although her door Lina did not touch.</p><p>	When she came to me to ask if I was okay and what had happened I didn't know why she was in my room.  I must have seemed distraught and in a way I think I was.  I don't like it when people come into my room without announcing themselves.  But Lina was worried about me, Mae.  Openly.  She was very concerned and I think that was the first time she was unafraid of showing just how much she had grown to care about me.  </p><p>	As much as that meant, anxiety welled in me when she told me of the situation, adding on to the already dreadful day.  That Anne and Anna were apart was strange.  That Katherine was not curled up by her cousin's side if she was suffering was very strange.  But that she had shut Anna out?  That was unheard of.  Anna was everything to Kitty, her go-to for nightmares, for fun, for comfort, for company...  Even if the degree to which they loved one another was not completely obvious that they were united at the hip was.  It was most disconcerting.</p><p>	But I couldn't do anything.  I wasn't close to Anne.  Anna despised me.  I had spoken a total of two times in civil terms with Katherine.  As worried as I was, I stayed in my room.</p><p>	After Lina was certain that I was alright and I had not been involved in whichever disaster had struck the three she went to check up on Anna.  Before she did she did something she hadn't done before, either.  She gave me a kiss on the forehead.</p><p>	While I generally prefer people ask before touching me, and as strange as it felt, I thought about it for days to come.  Lina cared about me.  Physical contact may not mean much to people who are used to patting strangers on the back and shaking hands with acquaintances on the daily.  But for all six of us it is very important.  Unless the situation absolutely demands we must, physical contact is something intimate for us.  It is only reserved for expressing deep affection.</p><p>	I hadn't thought Lina cared so much.  Even if her impulsivity was suboptimal the gesture meant the world to me.</p><p>	Lina and Anna spent that afternoon together in silence, occasionally talking around the issue.  Anna regretted what she had said for me as well.  Not just in the future, once we got close, but back then as well.  It was a very serious accusation and her wording very much made it seem like I had been an ally or even a knowing participant.  She disliked me, but your mother would never make false accusations; especially about something so sensitive.  Anna felt undeserving of Lina's company that day, but if she was alone the feeling that Kitty wasn't at her side asking for comfort became more real, so Anna forced herself to stay with Lina.</p><p>	Jane came home last.  She still was not on talking terms with Lina, and her relationship with Anna was shaky at best after what she had done to Katherine.  As such, after trying to get Anne to open her door to no avail and being well aware that Katherine would not want her near, Jane spent the evening in my room.  We had no idea what was happening and she was very preoccupied, so we spoke.  She spoke, mainly.  Of trivial things.  Anything to fill the silence so the creeping ambiance of pain and distress stayed at bay.</p><p>	For once I was comfortable with, and almost happy about, small talk.  There have been very few situations in which something of the sort has happened.</p><p>	I wouldn't say that evening qualified as bonding time with my sweet Janey, but it did open a door.  From that point forwards whenever she got anxious or overwhelmed she made a habit of coming to my room.  Sometimes she would knit on my bed as I wrote, neither speaking.  It was the warmest sort of silence and I found the clicking of her needles relaxing.</p><p>	I miss it.  Some times at night I can hear it and almost expect to find her there when I turn around.</p><p>	What Katherine did that day is a mystery to us all.  We have our conjectures, our theories.  But she never said what she did to ward the ominous anxiety that had washed over our house.</p><p>	Perhaps if that had been the only thing that had been going on in Anne's life at the time she would have taken a hit, but not such a critical one.  I am not saying learning that her most beloved daughter got hurt in such a brash fashion would not have devastated her.  It would have, there is no way around that.  However, the news did not simply break Anne.  Our Annie, it happened, was already broken at the time.  That event grabbed her shattered remains and ground them to dust.</p><p>	A storm had been brewing in her head for a long time at that moment, my girl.  Every aspect of Anne's life had been falling apart and we were none the wiser.  Her façade of humor and her laid back persona are very convincing.  It took us time and practice to discern when she was being herself and when she was masking her pain.</p><p>	When it comes to pain, your auntie has a lot to deal with.  We all do, but Annie may be our most sensitive family member.</p><p>	Everything started building up in her months before the bitter aftermath to the otherwise sweet pancake incident.  As soon as she started regaining her memories her feelings turned to daggers threatening to tear her apart from the inside out.  When, exactly, the memories started flooding back she cannot recall.  Her only certainty is that it began shortly before Lina's death day.  </p><p>	They were hazy and foggy recollections at first.  She could tell them apart from dreams, but she tried not to.  She preferred deceiving herself for as long as she could until it became impossible to chalk up the fragmented memories to the surreal realm of dreams.</p><p>	It's a bit ironic.  The acceptance that her memories were real, that she had indeed lived through the events she recalled, was what started the grieving process for her.  I cannot know if you are familiar with the Kübler-Ross Model of Grief when you read this, my princess; but acceptance is the final step.  For Annie acceptance kick-started the calamity that her life would become in the ensuing months.</p><p>	Something to understand about how your auntie functions is irrationality.  Anne is one of the most logical, grounded people I know.  However, her emotions have a figurative life of their own.  As much as Annie may know for a fact that her distress/anxiety is irrational she cannot calm herself down through logic alone.  Being told, or rationalizing on her own, that there is no objective basis for her negative emotions does nothing for her.</p><p>	I would give you some pointers on how to actually help her when she is distraught, but I doubt she will be alive by the time you read this.  I will be very, very concerned if you are gaining this knowledge in two years.</p><p>	...Huh.  “In two years.”  I wonder how many years in the past today will be by the time you are given this.  It still feels unreal, that I am writing this to part with you.  That I am preparing to leave you once more.</p><p>	I don't think I've processed it, Mae.  I'm just trying to make the best of the few days we have left.</p><p>	Back to what I was saying, Anne understood on a logical level that she had had no say in marrying Henry.  It had been a union fueled by coercion, manipulation and abuse.  She knew it was unfair of her to blame herself, especially given that she had no hard feelings towards Jane.  In our first lives Anne had been very cross at her cousin.  Other than her tactless and uncalled for antagonism with Anne, Anne also blamed her for having caved in so soon.  If Anne had warded Henry off for seven years how dare Jane crumble so quickly?</p><p>	It was a train of thought reincarnation stopped for her.  Hindsight really is 20/20.  </p><p>	That logic she could not apply to herself, however.  Every angle she looked at it from Anne felt like she had caused Henry to lay his eyes on her.  Had it been something she had said?  Something she'd worn that had given him the wrong idea?  Was there anything that she could have done to strike him as bland?  Perhaps if she had been quieter, if she had blended in more, he would have set his sights on someone else.</p><p>	In other words, Anne blamed herself for Lina's seclusion.  She thought herself to be the reason Lina had been torn from her Mary.  The vibrant memories of Lina and Anne as friends when they were Queen and Lady in Waiting clashed with the somber ones of Lina cursing her, despising her.</p><p>	It wasn't just Lina who had hated our Annie.  Everyone did.  Such few people cared about her, she was so alone.</p><p>	Anne hates being alone.  Maybe that's why.</p><p>	But if thinking herself to be at fault for all the strife she had caused Lina was devastating on its own, it was a pain several tiers under the guilt Anne felt for Mary's misery.  As you can imagine, your sister suffered quite a lot after she was sent away by Henry and separated from her mother.  Mary's grief over the years became an all-consuming toxic cloud of smoke that set her on a blazing trail of blood.  Anne remembered the sweet child she had met in court, so bright and lively.  </p><p>	She also thought of her after losing her mother.  The life and joy she had once brought blown out like a candle.  Mary seldom speaks of her first life.  Feelings towards what she did in this household are very conflicting, especially from Lina and, by proxy, the rest of us who care about her.  </p><p>	Anne was a bit different in that regard.  She used to (and I am not fully convinced she no longer does) blame herself for the path Mary took.  If Anne hadn't pushed for Henry to consider her a bastard.  If she had done better so the girl wouldn't have been separated from her mother.  “Ifs”, “buts” and “maybes” haunted your auntie.</p><p>	If you are aware of the things Mary did in her first life and you are feeling uncertain, do not feel guilty about it my girl.  We all were, especially Lina, conflicted upon finding out.  You can be as confused as you need be.  Again, allow yourself to feel emotions.  However, if I may give you some advice: think of Mary in this life, as you know her.  Picture her in your mind.  Does that person strike negative feelings in your heart?  Or do you think of the older sister you run to when you have a nightmare?  The quiet woman who “secretly” does your art projects for you?  (Oh, yes, I am on to you two.  Always have been, do not be fooled).  </p><p>	That is the person Mary is now.  Few of us conducted lives that harold no regrets the first time around.  Some, obviously, to objectively worse degrees than others.  But there isn't a single thing we can do to change the past.  All we can do is work on our present and our future.  And in that camp nobody has put as much time and effort as your sister Mary.  I hate to reiterate this, but more on her and you children much later.  I just needed to ease any potential distress you may be feeling upon reading this.</p><p>	Yes, Anne thought herself to be the culprit.  Once her memories returned she grew curious as to what had become of Mary and Lizzie.  Researching Mary was easier, though.  Anne was terrified of learning that her Lizzie had grown to resent her or something similar.  When Anne discovered how Mary is remembered in history she pinned that self-imposed responsibility onto the crushing weight she already dragged.</p><p>	To blame for hurting Lina, for sending her away.  Guilty of separating her from her daughter.  The self-proclaimed culprit for Mary's crimes.  All these things built up like a business of crows in your auntie's mind, pecking at her until she was nothing but a hollow shell.  </p><p>	A lot of her undiagnosed ADHD problems caused this negative view of herself as well.  She thought she was tardy, incompetent, unmotivated, lazy...  When she learnt of executive dysfunction she cried.  At least in that case certain traits of hers weren't personal flaws.</p><p>	In other words, she could hate herself a little less.</p><p>	That was the frame of mind news of Lizzie's aching reached Anne in.  Information that would have been devastating under any circumstances wound up destroying her.</p><p>	The day after the pancake incident's aftermath there was an anxious aura around breakfast.  Jane, Lina and Anna were in the kitchen when I came down.  Keep in mind I had no clue Anna had gotten upset about me talking to Katherine the previous day.  As far as I knew there was no tension save the usual between us.</p><p>	I went downstairs hoping to see that Anne and Kitty were okay, but they did not join us.  If anything, my presence made Anna even more tense.  She was torn between blaming me for everything and apologizing for the light she had put me under.  She went silent and got up as soon as she was finished instead.</p><p>	Jane was still not on speaking terms with Lina, but they were willing to make an effort to collaborate with me to get to the bottom of the unsettling situation our household was in.  Jane and I cared about Anne and Kitty, but Lina's concerns were limited to the second.  If she was not allowing Anna to get close, Anne was unavailable, she was still uncomfortable around Jane and she had no relationship with me, Lina tasked herself with aiding Katherine.  It was something she would have done for any of her students; moreso for someone who cared enough about her to try helping when she was in the deepest pits of her anxiety.</p><p>	All of Lina's attempts were met with silence.  And remember the little detail about Katherine's door being too easy to open?  With one particularly aggravated and aggressive knock, Lina opened it by accident.  Katherine was not there.</p><p>	At some point at dawn Katherine had crawled up to her cousin's bedroom out of concern.  Anne was still unable to speak, phased out with emotional pain.  Katherine understood why.  Well, not the bit about Anne's non-verbal episodes.  But she knew her share about silent pain, so she went down to the kitchen before the rest of us awoke and grabbed some snacks and a couple of bottles of water.  She was able to convince Anne into eating something and then coaxed her into bed.  Kitty slept on the floor.  I am positive Anne did not realize this.  Had she she would have disagreed with the arrangement.</p><p>	It would have been fantastic to know at the time that Katherine and Anne have a shared habit of keeping their phones permanently on Do Not Disturb mode unless they expect a phone call.  When Lina told us that Katherine's bedroom was empty Anna panicked.  Jane suggested calling Kitty to make sure she was not in Anne's bedroom before getting worried.  Upon hearing no ringtone, or even a vibration, the others decided it was best to knock and ask, at risk of disturbing Anne, before becoming needlessly concerned about Kitty's whereabouts.</p><p>	I decided to sit that one out, and it was probably for the best.  Had Anne seen me at that time, before Anna talked to her, I have a feeling that things would have gone down an even worse path than they took.  I simply did not see myself being of use in that situation, so I retreated to my room instead.</p><p>	As to not crowd Anne, only Anna went up to the door.  In the event that Katherine were there Jane, Lina and Anna supposed that Anna would be the one to upset the cousins the least.  Jane may have been friend-shaped, but Katherine was comprehensibly weary of her.</p><p>	Anna knocked very gently, saying something along the lines of “You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to, I just want to know if Kitty's with you.  We're worried.”</p><p>	From what Katherine told us afterwards, Anne blinked twice, shook her head, took a deep breath and got up with a smile.  The behaviour confused Katherine and Anna as well once Anne opened the door.  The rest of us too, honestly.  She went from unresponsive and locked in her room to her cheery self over night.</p><p>	It was Anne's way of coping back then.  Pretending nothing was wrong in a futile attempt to convince herself that was indeed the case.</p><p>	Because, if there's something your auntie still struggles with, it's accepting that her emotions are valid.  She feels with such intensity that even perceived slights can cause her serious emotional pain.  She is also incredibly aware of objective reality, so often times she knows her feelings are perhaps overblown.  She tries to suppress exaggerated reactions that may hurt or bother others by shutting them down, burying them deep and letting them harm her instead.  </p><p>	On more than one occasion it's lead her to overlook malicious actions and essentially gaslight herself.  With people that are not us, obviously.  We would never do that to our Annie.  If anything we try to cushion her painful reactions.</p><p>	So that's what your auntie did.  Smile, pretend nothing happened.  While Anna was convinced it was an act she hadn't grown close enough to Anne to know how to handle the situation.  The days in which the two of them would just cuddle on the sofa after hard workout sessions were still nowhere in sight.  Car drives, music and progressively deeper conversations were paving the way for that tight bond.</p><p>	But still, after making sure Katherine was in the house and she hadn't done something stupid, Anna asked Lina and Jane to leave.  She needed to tell Anne and Kitty something important.  Jane was very reluctant to leave her cousins, but given that Anne was involved Lina was all too happy to be gone.</p><p>	Apparently Anne noticed, and Katherine realized that Anne had seen Lina's disdain.  Her reaction to any negative words or actions coming from Lina always made Anne freeze for a second.  </p><p>	“I was telling myself that it was alright, that I deserved it, and then just moved on with my day I guess” was the explanation she'd give later.  It was after I got into the habit of providing tactile comfort to your auntie when she was vulnerable enough to admit physical touch was grounding and soothing for her.  Generally speaking it is for myself, as well, so we make a wonderful cuddle team, as Lina named it.</p><p>	I don't remember how that tradition of ours started, Mae.  I suppose after months of analyzing everyone's behaviour, facial expressions and mannerisms it became easier to discern when they were hiding their aching.  At first Anne thought she was bothering me, or taking too much of my time.</p><p>	...Time.  She could never take too much of it.  None of you could.  I would give anything to have just a little more time.  </p><p>	Sorry, my girl.  I'll get back on track.</p><p>	So, after Jane and Lina left, Katherine and Anne both tried evading the conversation.  Anne feared she would drop her mask if forced to interact and Katherine could not look at Anna without her lip quivering.</p><p>	You have no idea how lost they were without each other.  It's very comforting to know that they never strayed away.  From us, at times, during certain incidents.  But Anna and Katherine were never apart.</p><p>	Well, the way I phrased it it sounds like I am glad our kitten died before she could have a serious argument with Anna.  You know what?  Scratch that.  It is not comforting in the slightest.</p><p>	Anna needed to apologize for the manner in which she had handled everything.  It hadn't been the right way, and it hadn't been fair to anyone involved.  After convincing the cousins to stay and listen to her for a minute your mother explained everything you already know.  How much I loved Lizzie, how I would never be a knowing accomplice.  </p><p>	She couldn't take away the pain she had inflicted on Anne, but perhaps she could minimize it by letting her know she had not been sharing a house with her daughter's abuser.  And at the very least she could comfort Katherine and make sure she knew Anna would never put her in a situation of danger.</p><p>	“...I'll believe it when I see proof of it.”</p><p>	Or something similar was what Katherine said.  Anna described how flushed and damp her cheeks were with actual tears, glistening in the lamp light, and how red her eyes were.  Anne put an arm around her.  In part because Katherine was trembling.  In part because Anne, quite literally, needed a hug and did not know how to ask for it yet.</p><p>	Anna didn't understand why Kitty needed evidence.  It took some time for it to sink in just how much losing trust in her had damaged Katherine.  It did not, however, take half as long for everyone to know to what degree her careless confession had damaged our Anne.</p><p>	The cousins spent the morning researching and that is as much information as anyone was ever given.  They discovered that yes, I had done something horrible.  But that Anna was being honest, I tried to fix everything once I found out.</p><p>	The only thing I know from their time hiding away from us that day is a brief snippet of their conversation that Anne told me about later on.  It was during another one of our tactile comfort sessions.  I was practically laying on her and her fingers were rubbing my scalp.  She told me that Katherine was very conflicted about me.  On the one hand it hadn't been on purpose; but on the other my negligence had had dire consequences.  Unsure about how to feel, Kitty asked Anne if she hated me.</p><p>	Anne admitted she did.  But just a little.  Horrendous things happened to young girls in court all the time during all our reigns.  It was a given.  Lina hadn't batted an eyelash over Henry's obvious grooming of Bessie, just to name one incident.  I had been blinded by the way society treated young girls in our time.  What nowadays would be scandalous and inappropriate back then were just games.</p><p>	I am getting nauseous writing this, I'm sorry Mae.  I want to finish this part as soon as possible, so forgive me if I rush through it.</p><p>	Anne did not blame me, and did not think any of us were in danger around me.  She had to take her daughter's word, and Anna's, as Anne herself hadn't been there to witness it.  She wished I had noticed earlier, that I had done better.  But if Lizzie had forgiven me and vouched for my innocence Anne would not ignore her little girl.  She still hated me, but she was aware that it was a feeling fueled by the rage of learning her princess had been harmed.  If anything she hated Thomas, and she hated Henry for having taken her away from her daughter.</p><p>	And yes.  She also hated herself.  The hypotheticals of what if she'd done better, could she have saved Lizzie, and the like returned with a vengeance.  Anne hated herself more than she ever had in either life.</p><p>	But she did not show it.  She put on a smile for Katherine and reassured her everything would be alright.</p><p>	We can't thank whichever entities control this universe enough for Katherine seeing right through her cousin's façade.  Otherwise I believe Anne could have wound up in a much more dire state than she did.</p><p>	While all this was taking place in the attic I finally finished my article, on the very last day.  I hate turning things in with such little time to revise.  However, I had something a tad more important planned for that day.  If Anne was feeling better at lunch time I would give her the letter.  It was obvious she wanted to befriend me.  It made me feel terrible when she assumed I disliked her.  If she needed to hate me then so be it, but warding her off and making her think she was unwanted company was worse.</p><p>	It was close enough to the 19th as well.  I wound up deciding it would be better to have her suffer all at once than give her false hopes of tranquility after her death day just to tell her about Lizzie's fate.  It was scary for me, too.  I could not help but agonize over the others' reactions.  What if Katherine decided I was not worth the time?  What if Jane was disgusted by me?</p><p>	And, worst of all: what if Lina hated me?  </p><p>	She was the only person I felt as a friend.  Not an acquaintance, not a house mate.  A friend.</p><p>	I figured all of those reactions would be acceptable and well deserved, so at lunch time I went downstairs with the letter folded in my pocket.  If Anne was alright I would just do it and face the consequences.</p><p>	A lot of the following events were lost to me because I cannot stress enough how bad I am at reading people.  My gentle way of asking people if they are okay these days as you know me are a far cry from where I begun.  I hadn't started taking notes on their behaviour yet, I hadn't observed them long and hard.  Unless someone was wailing, crying, cackling or any other blatantly obvious demonstration of emotion I could not tell how they were feeling.  It was worse than anything you've seen, my girl.</p><p>	I saw Anne smiling with Kitty and Jane when I took a seat next to Lina.  If she was smiling then she must be fine.  And hence that made it as good a day as any other to ruin with the unavoidable news.</p><p>	Later that week Lina explained all that had gone over my head.  How Anne's laughter was forced.  The concerned glances Kitty shared with Jane throughout the entirety of lunch.  How Anna wouldn't stop staring at Katherine, hoping to catch her eye, and how in turn Kitty had noticeably turned her chair away from her.  How Lina was deeply uncomfortable around all the drama surrounding us.</p><p>	But I was none the wiser, so I made (my best attempt at) casual conversation with her.  After we were done and took our plates to the sink I handed Anne the letter.</p><p>	“There's something you have to know” was all the explanation I provided before scurrying back to my room.</p><p>	Look, Mae, I had intended on staying with her to see her reaction myself and face it head on.  But the moment the letter left my fingers I was overwhelmed by a mixture of panic and the beginning of a meltdown.  I am not the best at dealing with people's reactions unless I have a course of action planned.</p><p>	And there really was none with Anne.  All I could do was wait in paralyzing fear.  I opened a new document, hoping that words would ward off my anxiety.  But they did not, because no words came.  My mind only had room for dread and nothing could be done to alleviate it.</p><p>	As I waited Anne read.  Alone, in her room.  The most she told me about that letter was that “it was a punch to the gut.  Every word was”.  But she did confirm, once we became friends, that she didn't blame me.  If anything she was impressed at how upfront I was.</p><p>	Two very different outlooks on the situation, I guess.  I felt like a damn coward for running away.</p><p>	I am positive if Anne had taken out all the resentment she felt towards herself on the actual culprit (me) we would not have become friends.  Instead my letter harmed her as if it had covered her in paper cuts.  The way she saw it, because of her incompetence at staying alive someone who should not have been made responsible of caring for her daughter was consumed by guilt.</p><p>	Yet another reason for Anne to flay herself.</p><p>	I am describing our relationship in a rather simplified manner for shortness' sake, Mae, but I do not want you to think that everything was nice and smooth between your auntie and I.  It was not, that could not be further from the truth.  As much as Anne knew, on a rational level, that I had done my best she also knew it hadn't been good enough.  She had an inner conflict in regards to me for a long time.  Hating herself for not blaming me as well as for blaming me.  Despising herself for caring about me and even more so for saying hurtful things she didn't really mean when angry.</p><p>	I am eternally thankful for her attempts to like me, though.  We may be close now, but I can't help but feel some times she still hates me a bit.</p><p>	It's fine, really.  Don't hold it against her.  It hurts, but I earned it.  I am grateful for her friendship and cannot nor do I wish to ask for more from her.  She is like a sister.  I am well aware it is affection I do not deserve.</p><p>	Also do not take my words to their extreme meaning and assume Anne manipulated me, at any point, in any capacity.  Not once has your auntie done anything of the sort.  No guilt tripping, no casual reminders of my failure or the like.  She can say some really horrendous things when angered and she never means them; but that is not something exclusive to me.  She has even gotten out of hand with Katherine.</p><p>	Every time Anne says something hurtful the words turn against her and harm her tenfold.  I mean it, Mae, do not think ill of your auntie.  Rough patches and all she loves me and I love her more than we can convey.</p><p>	With words, anyway.  But it is a bond we needn't describe.  We feel it, and that is good enough.</p><p>	When Anne knocked on my door hours later I'd spent said time bracing myself for the worst.  I had started planning where I would go when I was inevitably kicked out of the house.</p><p>	But your auntie just smiled at me and thanked me.  She said it must have been terrifying, but that I still did it because I thought it was right.  I did not know what to do with the situation, so I asked why she wasn't cross at me.  She lied, as I would find out much later, but she said if Lizzie had forgiven me she was in no place to disagree with her girl.</p><p>	In other, less confusing terms: she hated to hate me, but she also hated not hating me.  It was very conflicting, but she handled my feelings with care.</p><p>	This is one of the clearest examples of how good your auntie is.  I wasn't close to her, just a bit more than an acquaintance.  When it comes to people's emotions your auntie puts all her softness into them.  Even strangers, even people who have wronged her.</p><p>	Even me.</p><p>	A bit redundant, but I was unaware of the depths of her feelings.  I took what she said at face value, and as odd as it struck me that she did not hate me I accepted it.  It was a surprise, but a welcome one for a change.</p><p>	That day was Saturday May the 2nd.  The days that followed would be, to date, some of the tensest, most agonizing days we have lived through in our second life.</p><p>	The previous Friday, while I was engrossed in baking, Anne had been attacked by a parrot, an African grey.  It would appear it had been abandoned or it had flown away or something similar.  It must have gotten lost, or been unable to return home.  It contracted several illnesses and it had been attacked by a cat.  A passerby saw it and decided to help it.  The disease-ridden animal bit Anne.  It was bad enough for her boss to let her leave early so she could go to the hospital.</p><p>	But she managed to get the wound to stop bleeding by herself, so instead she came back home with Anna.  If it didn't heal properly over the weekend she would have it looked at, she decided.</p><p>	I still don't know why she made that choice.  It's not like Anne is averse to medical environments.  Unlike those of us who died of an illness Anne can walk in and out of clinics without any consequences.</p><p>	...Who knows.  Maybe I'll ask her from here to the 4th.</p><p>	After the events of that weekend, however, Anne stopped caring.  The gash did not close, it was rather nauseating to behold, but she just kept it wrapped up and did not bother changing the bandages.  There were a lot of things your auntie deemed unimportant after she decided she was unworthy of taking care.  She stopped eating right, sleeping right, she forgot to drink...</p><p>	“It just didn't matter, you know?” she told Anna and I a few months after the fact.  We were telling her stories about Lizzie at her request.  One sentence lead to another and we wound up discussing these events.  “If I was hungry, if I slept...  None of it mattered.   Lizzie suffered more and I wasn't there to help her, now was I?”</p><p>	She was curled up between Anna and me.  Her hands were freezing even though it was warm.  Your auntie always gets cold when she is unwell.  It's a sort of bone-deep chill that won't leave even if she puts her hands in scalding water (for the record, she has indeed tried.  Nobody told her to do it, it was an idea she had and tested on her own).  </p><p>	Some times comforting words and time are capable of warming her up again.  Other times her hands remain icy for weeks on end.</p><p>	I apologize for focusing so much on this, Mae.  I'm trying to hold on to every little detail of our family.  I wish I had the time to immortalize every tiny aspect that makes all of you the family I know and love.  Your quips and remarks, inside jokes, mannerisms...</p><p>	But I cannot; pointless train of thought.  I barely have time to finish this for you.</p><p>	So, come Monday Anne seemed to have caught a cold, or the flu.  She called in sick to work but did not book an appointment with the doctor.  Anna, Jane and Katherine told her to take care, but that morning was otherwise inconsequential.  The most memorable moment was Kitty walking to school on her own for the first time.  She didn't even tell Anna, she just left.  </p><p>	Lina told me later that day that she intercepted Katherine at the door and offered her a ride.  Kitty was very irritated at the proposal and all but shoved by Lina.  Neither of us understood her behaviour at the time and attributed it to teenage hormones.</p><p>	I checked up on Anne once throughout the morning.  She seemed to be fine.  It's unnerving how well she appeared.  Nothing more than a throat cold or a mild flu.</p><p>	I did wonder if I should prepare some soup for her, but I decided against it.  She had barely nibbled at her breakfast before retreating to her room.  I did not want to put her in a situation in which she felt obligated to accept my gesture and then make her feel sicker.</p><p>	Lina and everyone else came back in time.  Lina and I made tea and sat in my room.  After she told me about her day she brought up, for the first time since waking up, that she had her sights on a couple of flats that would be nice to rent.  She offered to share costs with me, if I wanted to move out with her.</p><p>	Before I could reply Jane came to see me, knitting needles in hand.  When she saw Lina she left without a word.  Lina didn't know why her old friend despised her so much.  She asked me to think about her idea before going after Jane.  I wondered if Jane would be open to telling me why she avoided Lina.</p><p>	A muffled conversation came from Kitty's room, I could barely make out her and Anna's voices.  I would have sworn one of them was crying.  Probably Katherine, but I wouldn't dismiss Anna as a candidate, either.  I hoped whatever argument they were in they could work through.</p><p>	But most of all I was overjoyed at the prospect of leaving with Lina.  She really was my friend, the feeling was mutual.  </p><p>	It is staggering, even now, to think about the scope of my concerns and feelings at that time.  Worried about Jane and Lina, wishing for the best for Katherine and Anna, imagining what flats Lina had searched for...</p><p>	Such a menial, eventless day.  Not just for me, for everyone: after Jane refused to talk to her, Lina went to catch up on some exam corrections.  Jane continued working on her matching scarves for Anne, Katherine and herself for the winter.  Anna and Kitty were caught up in a heart to heart...</p><p>	We were having an ordinary day while Anne was holding on to her life upstairs.</p><p>	Perhaps, my girl, if you are queasy about illnesses, you would rather skip this part.  I won't go into details, but know your auntie had sepsis.</p><p>	The loud banging of a fist against wood woke me up at 3:42.  The numbers on the alarm clock are burnt into my memory.  I figured somebody had a nightmare and tried going back to sleep, I was exhausted.  But then there were loud, hasty footsteps up the stairs, past my door and up to the attic.</p><p>	Jane asked what was wrong in a sleepy voice.  Another useful description of our old house: my room was the furthest from the attic.  The reply got to me faintly, but I managed to make out the words “sick”, “thermometer” and “999” as Anna's voice faded while she rushed up to Anne's room.</p><p>	I froze, unsure if I should join the others outside or not.  My heart was hammering in my chest.  I would be unable to help, my vocal cords refused to emmit sounds yet again.  But I needed to know what was happening, and concern for Anne's safety outweighed my fear of being in the way.</p><p>	I must have taken longer to reach that conclusion than I was aware of, because when I opened my door Anna was carrying a shivering, weakly complaining Anne downstairs.  Katherine was behind them, ducking into her room to grab a jumper, a jacket and her shoes.  Jane followed suit and both of them disappeared after Anne and Anna down the stairway, leaving Lina and I in the corridor.</p><p>	Shortly after the front door unlocked, and briefly after that the garage door opened and a car sped away.</p><p>	Lina was leaning against her door frame, staring at a spot on the floor.  She did not move and neither did I.  I wasn't even sure how I would go about asking the question I desperately needed answered.</p><p>	Eventually Lina shook her head as if to clear her thoughts and made her way to the living room, gesturing for me to join her.  She didn't explain much, just that Anne had gotten sick.  She was trying so hard to pretend she was unconcerned about that, but she would not stop checking her phone waiting for a text from Anna.  Even minutes after they left, when it was impossible for them to have reached the hospital.</p><p>	It was a night filled with an anxious silence.  We sat next to each other without bothering to as much as turn on the telly to keep us company.  I was worried about Anne.  I thought she was kind, I liked her.  Lina took her time to admit it, but despite her ill feelings towards Anne she had never wished sickness or any other harm upon her.</p><p>	The story in order goes as follows.  Katherine was annoyed about everyone forbidding her from seeing her cousin despite the fact we all thought Anne had a contagious ailment and Katherine could catch it.  As such she waited the day out, but something was eating away at her since she had seen Anne's abnormal reaction to all that had happened surrounding Lizzie and I.</p><p>	  As such your auntie waited until she was certain everybody was asleep to sneak into Anne's room.  That was some time after 1:30 AM, when Anna's favourite show back then (some crime series.  “Astrid and ” someone else, I forget) ended.  </p><p>	When Kitty got to the attic Anne was deep asleep. Katherine thought it best to let her rest and sat on her desk chair.  She was very uneasy, almost as if she suspected Anne had no regular cold.  She didn't really rationalize why she thought staying there with her was a good idea, she just wanted to be near her cousin, watch over her, in case she needed something.</p><p>	Thank goodness she stayed.</p><p>	Two hours later, when Katherine deemed her concern over a simple fever was overblown and she ought to get some rest, Anne started breathing badly, at uneven intervals, almost too slowly.  Your auntie has asthma, something only Jane, Katherine and Anna knew for a while.  Fearing it was an asthma attack, Katherine tried shaking Anne awake.</p><p>	It was then she noticed Anne was cold.  Not just her hands, like when she is grieving or hurt.  Her whole body was unnaturally cold despite being covered in blankets.  To make matters worse, she did not wake nor show any signs of noticing Katherine was there.  </p><p>	Kitty as you knew her was terrified of doctors; but unlike the rest of us who have a medical aversion she was not reincarnated with it.  It was an acquired taste from years of being gaslit, ignored, misdiagnosed and mistreated by so-called medical professionals.  As such she did not hesitate to dial 999, she did not waste a second on getting someone else to do it for her.  All the while, though...</p><p>	“I was hoping they would say it sounded like a normal flu” she informed us the following morning, when Jane, Anna and her returned.  Her eyes were hollow once more, but her little voice trembled with concern.  “But no, they asked me to check her pulse.  It was close to 150.”</p><p>	Despite handling the situation professionally and with maturity, she was terrified all along.  My poor kitten.</p><p>	At that point she was instructed to get an adult to take Anne to the hospital, and the rest I have already told you.  Annie woke up at some point, just enough to insist she was fine before falling unconscious once more on the way to the emergency room.</p><p>	She got admitted into the ER immediately.  It sounded like it could potentially be sepsis and I thank our lucky stars that she was not checked by an incompetent fool.  Sepsis can be criminally underdiagnosed, and if not caught on time it can lead to organ failure and from there much, much worse.</p><p>	You catch my drift.  It's bitterly ironic that I cannot bring myself to state that Anne could have died from something that she has long recovered from as if her fate were not sealed for May 19th two years from now.</p><p>	Katherine, Jane and Anna waited around two hours before getting updated.  Jane and your mother took turns often to leave the hospital, not wanting to leave Kitty alone at any point.  Both of them had similar phantom pains and in a bout of solidarity for their shared ache and concern about Anne, any and all remaining hostilities between them were buried overnight.</p><p>	And for the rest of their days together as well.  There was no need to dig that axe up afterwards.  It was blatantly obvious to both Anna and Katherine that Jane cared about Anne.  She was crying, she had forced herself to go to the hospital despite fearing it.  She forced herself to remain in said hospital, despite her cramps, to make sure Katherine wasn't alone and Anna could take some time off as well.</p><p>	Nobody would put themself through that just to keep an act up, trust me.  I know Jane's phantom pains first hand.  If any of us still doubted she was pretending to be nice but was secretly manipulative and cruel those hesitations faded.</p><p>	I believe it was Jane who was inside, already queasy and desperately hoping for Anna to return from her break soon, when the nurse came.  After running the necessary tests Anne did indeed have sepsis.  From the wound on her arm, it would seem.  She hadn't treated it, she'd done nothing to prevent an infection.</p><p>	And, perhaps, if Anne had been alone in her room and nobody had noticed that her breathing slowed, it would have become severe sepsis by the time we noticed in the morning.  That would have meant organ failure.  You can imagine its logical conclusion.</p><p>	A full recovery would take a few months.  Even after autumn came Annie would still get lightheaded, be exhausted at all times, have terrible brain fog and feel feverish.  She made a partial recovery much sooner, in a month or so.  Of that month she spent thirteen days in the hospital.</p><p>	She could be thankful for that recovery time.  Had it turned severe she could have spent weeks in a coma and months hospitalized.</p><p>	After learning her stay in the hospital would not be a short one Anna and Jane decided they ought to go back home.  Anna would try powering through the workday, but Jane as her own boss w¡could close shop until she rested a bit.  Katherine wanted to stay, and heavens could she be stubborn.  Once she learnt her cousin would be alright and relief replaced her anxiety she was almost falling asleep where she stood.  It was that tiredness that played to Anna and Jane's favour in convincing Kitty to go back home.</p><p>	When, instead of a text message, we heard the door unlock, I feared the worst.  It had to be bad news.  Otherwise why would they wait to tell us in person?</p><p>	They had simply forgotten.  Anna was in a hurry to sneak an hour or so of sleep before getting ready for work.  Jane had left her phone at home and Katherine fell asleep on the ride back.</p><p>	I cannot accurately describe how glad I was.  Granted I was worried, we all were, that Anne had stopped taking care of herself to such a degree.  Nobody even knew she had gotten hurt.  But she was safe, and at the time that was enough.</p><p>	Of course, I couldn't help but wonder if it had been my fault.  If Anne had stopped caring because I had been incapable of properly protecting her girl.</p><p>	Your auntie hasn't blamed me for it, but I have a very hard time believing it only had to do with how the news was delivered and not with the news itself.</p><p>	This incident had consequences for both Anna and myself, who blamed ourselves for Anne's plummeting mental and physical health.  I have already covered my lingering guilt; but wait more a bit for your mother's.  Anne's fall triggered Anna's as well and there is no need for me to tell the same story twice.</p><p>	Anna let Jane and Katherine inform Lina and I.  She was not the biggest fan of leaving Kitty with me and people who were on good terms with me but she needed that rest.  Seriously your mother does not function when tired.  I'm not certain you have caught on to it as of now, but your mother and I are basically an insomniac and a deep, deep sleeper.</p><p>	And anyways, Katherine insisted she would be fine, almost leading Anna to her room by the hand.  The final nail in the coffin was Anna knew I am no abuser and she gave in to her exhaustion.</p><p>	It was Kitty who did the explaining, mostly.  Bickering with Anna to get her to sleep had cleared her mind a bit and Jane still choked on tears when she tried to tell us the story.  Whether from concern, the phantom pains she had brought home with her or both I am not sure.</p><p>	After Katherine was done Lina muttered something.  I didn't really understand, but it must have been something along the lines of “That's terrible”, because Katherine, who did hear, snapped.  In a few days she had learnt of what happened to Lizzie (hence being reminded of her own past), she had found out I was partially to blame, that Anna knew all along, as such losing trust in her closest friend, she was still recovering from what happened with Jane and to boot her cousin was in the hospital and could have died.</p><p>	Katherine put up with a lot and dealt with it in silence, but that turmoil mixed with how tired she was were the perfect mix to make her explode.  It was terrifying, seeing her angry for the first time.  I wondered how many things were sizzling under the surface to make her utter such harsh, scalding words.</p><p>	I couldn't have guessed that that wasn't even her breaking point.  It was just the tip of the iceberg beginning to poke through.</p><p>	Firstly know that Lina was not lamenting Anne's condition sarcastically.  Again, she was not happy with the situation.  Assumably Katherine was aware of that, but she did not care.  Much like how Anna hadn't cared when Lina and Jane had been sympathetic towards Kitty on her death day.</p><p>	Your mother and auntie Kitty were so similar in so many ways.  It's as if they were always destined to be family and fate had carelessly mismatched their relatives.</p><p>	Katherine called Lina any and every insult you can imagine that is not degrading or a slur.  A liar, a hypocrite, narrow-minded, self-centered...  She said that Lina was one of the top contributors to Anne's flailing emotional state.  That if she, and I quote, “Pulled her head out of her ass occasionally and got a breath of fresh air” and I will end the quote there because Katherine could talk a mile a minute and that was the sentence that caught my attention the most.  She continued by essentially saying that if Lina did what Kitty suggested she would have realized long ago that Anne had never meant to harm her or wanted to marry Henry.  The union had been forced upon her and she had died as a result.  Not everything was about Lina and if only she listened to Anne once she would know that.</p><p>	I explained it very calmly.  Kitty laced her dialogue with am almost elegant use of profanity every so often in very creative ways, if I do say so myself.  She was also in between screaming and keeping her voice down for Anna's sake.  She was dry crying as well, with hysterical sobs.  However she did not stop staring Lina down for a second.</p><p>	I think Lina could not have looked more...  I don't know, I will go with shocked, that is the best approximation I can make.  But it was much more than that.  Even she couldn't name it when she told me about it.</p><p>	“I was offended but also embarrassed to be called out.  I wanted to call her a snotty brat but objectively she was right, I was being rather unfair to Anne.  I was trying to process everything, trying to make sense of it and deconstruct it, ground her for being insolent and also ask her to repeat, but slowly.  All at once.”</p><p>	If someone had dumped a bucket of ice on her, Lina would not have looked more bewildered.  Lina wound up saying something else to Katherine, but it was lost to me in between the borderline yelling and how tense I had already been beforehand.  It must have been something a tad condescending or such, because I do remember Kitty storming away.</p><p>	We thought she had gone to her room.  She had locked herself in Anne's and wrapped herself in one of her cousin's jumpers.</p><p>	While Lina tried to comprehend her own raging emotions Jane confirmed what Katherine said, but much more nicely, at last disclosing what her problem with Lina was.  She then left as well.</p><p>	I wanted to go myself.  There was nothing I could say, I felt disgustingly responsible for Anne's hospitalization and I feared Lina would lash out at me too.  I just wanted to shut the blinds in my room as the rising sun was becoming increasingly torturous to my eyes and sleep the pain away.  But when I stood up Lina asked me something.</p><p>	“...Do you think they're right?  About me?”</p><p>	I said “yes” without giving it much thought.  Objectively Lina was being cruel to Anne and blaming her for something she was not guilty of.  I did not, however, think all the insults Katherine had aimed at her.  I believed Lina too was hurt from our past life and was taking a bit longer to work through her emotions.</p><p>	But I didn't quite say that.  I simply answered Lina's question: yes, she was unfair to Anne.</p><p>	I think my blunt honesty hurt her.  She made up some half-mumbled excuse to go to her room and get ready for work.  We didn't see much of her for days to come.</p><p>	By “we” I mean Anna, Jane and I; who Lina successfully shut out as she thought long and hard about her feelings and actions.  Kitty, who feared Lina would starve herself again if left unsupervised, found a plethora of ways to make sure Lina was eating.</p><p>	Their friendship stemmed from Katherine pestering Lina into taking care of herself.  Perhaps not the most common way of starting a bond, but it was definitely effective.  Their care for each other was deep as could be.</p><p>	For the days Anne was hospitalized she fell in and out of consciousness frequently.  Anna, Jane and Katherine visited her often.  Kitty would actually stay a substantial amount of time with her cousin whether she was awake or not.  Jane and Anna tried to keep their time in the hospital as brief as possible.  If Anne was not awake they wouldn't stay.  If she was, they would check up on her, say a couple of encouraging things and leave before the asphyxiating environment plunged them back into their deathbeds.</p><p>	I wanted to go too, but I wasn't really sure if Anne wanted me to.  Or if it was my fault.  I wasn't keen on the idea of talking to anyone but Jane, really, and I couldn't ask her to ask Anne if it was my fault on my behalf.  Not without explaining why I thought it could be to Jane.  I much rathered not doing that.</p><p>	Instead I wrote a “Get Well Soon” card to Anne.  After printing it I threw it in the bin.  Why would she want anything from me?</p><p>	My hands were full at home as well, trying to discern whether Lina wanted me to get close to her or not.  On the one hand she seemed upset every time Katherine would essentially force herself into Lina's life to make sure she had eaten.  On the other hand, I observed more than once that, after Katherine left in a huff, Lina got a distant look.  She wasn't quite bothered, but I couldn't name what she felt either.</p><p>	The proper term is 'endearment'.  Katherine's reluctant, and almost angry worry for her wellbeing struck Lina as something tender.  Kitty all but hated her for having made Anne feel bad, but still the child refused to let her starve herself.  Even if she had to be annoying about it.</p><p>	For the record, your auntie despised turning herself into a nuisance.  Her methods may not have been the best, but at least she got the job done.  Jane did not want to care about Lina, Anna trusted her perhaps a bit much with self-care and I just took her literally.  If Lina said she wanted to be left alone I left her to her musings.</p><p>	As her time in the hospital progressed, Anne started staying awake longer and longer.  She had too much free time on her hands.  Time to think about Lizzie, to think about how she had suffered and torment herself with scenarios.  Time to mull over how she was a despicable mother for not hating me.  How she was a despicable person for hating me because, in her words, “we can't always keep those we love safe, and that doesn't necessarily mean it's because we're bad people.”</p><p>	It was shortly after the week mark that I buried myself in work and caffeine again when someone knocked on my door.  It was your auntie Kitty, rigid as the first time we spoke, asking to come in.</p><p>	She pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from a pocket in Anna's hoodie.  Apparently Katherine's clothes-stealing tendencies got more acute (and also cuter, I must say) after her short distancing from Anna.  </p><p>	What she handed me was my discarded “Get Well Soon” card.  It must have been visible after I emptied my bin in the kitchen garbage, I did put some glitter on it before throwing it away.  From what little I knew about Anne she liked sparkly things (“the moth brain”, as she calls it.  She insists I have a “crow brain”, because I also collect shiny objects instead of just admiring them).  Katherine saw the glimmer and grew curious.</p><p>	“I really don't mean to pry, but maybe you should give it to her.  Or let me give it to her.  She'll like it.  You write very well, Miss Catherine.”</p><p>	I insisted she wouldn't, that she probably hated me.  Apparently Anne had spoken about her tribulations with Katherine.  She was entirely vulnerable in the hospital, too tired, sick and drugged to care.  Katherine was a safe presence in her new life; the only safe presence.  After getting past the awkward phase of getting to know each other and for most of our second lives Anne and Kitty were two of a kind, an indivisable pack.</p><p>	It's no wonder Annie felt like a part of herself had been torn out when Kitty died.  It's more or less what we all felt at both her and Jane's funerals.  But the bond that Anne and Katherine had was very, very special.</p><p>	While she was still getting used to Jane and Anna, the important part is Anne already trusted Kitty.  It is also relevant to mention that she did not know of the circumstances that had lead her baby cousin to that scaffold.  Otherwise I am positive she would not have brought those themes up with Kitty regardless of how troubled she was.</p><p>	When Kitty told me what Anne had said about being unable to always protect our loved ones and it not making us inherently bad people I was only looking at it through Annie's lens: she had died, hence being unable to protect her daughter, and she had to come to terms with not being a bad person.  Jane had been unable to protect her, resulting in her death, and that did not make her a bad person.  Lina had been stopped from caring for her daughter, resulting in Mary's lifelong depression, and that did not make Lina a bad person.</p><p>	From that angle I felt like the comparison to me was unfair: I hadn't died, I hadn't been stripped away from Lizzie and I had not been pressured by my family and the king himself to let Thomas get away with his crimes.  I hadn't noticed on time, it was a crucial difference.</p><p>	But looking back on it I think the sentence meant something different to Katherine: Anna being unable to protect her when Henry chose her as her wife.  It was a guilt Anna carried with her into her new life.</p><p>	Your mother, admittedly, did not do much to assist Katherine.  She took Henry's choice as inescapable and, in fear for both her and Kitty's lives if she angered Henry, left it at that.  My Anna, too, was plagued by 'what ifs' and self-destructive thoughts about not having done enough.</p><p>	Your mother outlived Bessie Blount, Katherine and Eddie.  That was almost everyone she loved.  Their ghosts haunted her in her sleep.  Especially Katherine's, blaming her for not lifting a finger.</p><p>	I will remind you your auntie was sixteen when Henry wed her.  Two years older than Lizzie.  If Kitty did not blame Anna for not having tried to save her (although, to your mother's credit, she did believe that Henry would marry Katherine regardless and that he would eventually just tire of her and divorce her) she understood why Lizzie did not blame me for not having realized on time and still done my best to protect her.  From that perspective the comparison makes more sense.</p><p>	But however it may be, whether she did have that in mind or I am just projecting onto her, Anne most certainly did not mean it in that sense.  She meant it in the sense that some times things happen, one's incompetence included, that prevent them from doing the right thing on time (case in point: Lina with Bessie).</p><p>	Katherine added that she did not blame me, either.  I now know she would have given a lung for someone to send her away when they realized she was being hurt and that knowing I had done that made me a hero in her eyes after giving it much thought.</p><p>	Yes, your auntie's bar for what constitutes a decent person was dirt low.  Comprehensible, given Anna was the only good person she ever interacted with and at that point Katherine was so mind broken she saw their friendship as an oversight and a mistake on Anna's part.</p><p>	I think that was the thing that convinced me the most to give Anne the card.  How genuine Katherine's admiration was, her soft smile when she spoke to me.  There was none of the repulsion or scorn I had expected once I found out she knew.</p><p>	We printed a new letter for Anne together.  We invited Jane, too.  The three of us decorated it with as much glitter as we could dump on it without rendering it illegible.  Katherine insisted we leave a small space for Anna to write.  Just because she did not wish to be with me didn't mean she wouldn't want to write something for Anne.</p><p>	That was the first time I felt like we could all work out how to live together.  We were a bit dysfunctional, but it felt like I too was a part of that messiness.  Learning how to make  a life with others is hard.  A lot of trial and error and adjusting needs to be done.  But for the first time since the household truce I didn't feel like an outsider with only Lina tethering me to the rest.</p><p>	I was very, very nervous about letting Kitty give the card to Anne.  What if she did hate me and she thought she couldn't trust Katherine or Jane either?  What if Kitty was wrong?</p><p>	That night, at dinner, Katherine gave Anna the card to sign.  Anna came home really late.  From work, she said, a lot of last-minute problems with the machines in the cardio room.</p><p>	I wish someone had seen through that ruse as Katherine saw through Anne's.</p><p>	Regardless, dinner was the first moment Katherine had to give Anna the letter.  When your mother asked whose idea it had been and Jane said it was mine I thought something bad was bound to happen.  She looked at me and I didn't like it.  Not just because I couldn't read her, but because I was convinced she would hate me enough to compensate for Kitty and Anne's misplaced kindness.</p><p>	But she didn't say anything, she just turned her attention to the letter and wrote.</p><p>	Lina, for the first time since Anne got ill and Katherine lashed out at her, joined us for dinner instead of eating in her room.  Just as we were all collectively looking at our masterpiece for Anne.</p><p>	I thought Lina would definitely be cross at me.  Not only was I on good terms with Jane, who refused to speak to her.  I was also getting close to Anne.  I was so insecure in my friendship with Lina I feared the slightest inconvenience could tear us apart.</p><p>	“...Is it okay if I sign it too?” was all she said.  I'm pretty sure the confusion I felt was a collective emotion, but after a brief silence Anna handed her the card.  Since there were no glitter-free areas left Lina scrawled a cramped “I hope you recover well” on the bottom corner.</p><p>	She sat with me and talked to me as usual.  After dinner it was her turn to do the dishes, but she asked me to stay.  She told me for a long time after we left the dishes to dry about all the things she had been considering: that Anne had probably been as powerless as Bessie had been, that Lina had thrown their friendship under the bus (or, carriage.  1500s and all that) and added on to the people's hate towards Anne, and that all in all the least she could do was give her a chance to explain herself.</p><p>	She wanted to know my opinion, since she valued how honest I'd been.  That despite being her friend I hadn't sugarcoated my thoughts and been harsh.  For days I was unsure we were still friends and she was appreciative of me on the other hand.  When I told her about my suspicions she asked if it was alright for her to hug me.</p><p>	“I'm sorry I didn't tell you that I just wanted some alone time.  I'm sorry I made you feel dejected.  Of course we're still friends.  I love you, Cathy.”</p><p>	The moment your auntie embraced me I felt one of the strongest surges of affection I have felt in this second live we've been granted.  I felt safe and wanted.  It was a much more effective way of communicating than words, which are so hard to decipher even with practice.  I needn't pay attention to intonation, body language and other minute aspects in Lina's arms.  She loved me as I did her.  We were friends.  It was perfect.</p><p>	Your auntie has an ability to make me feel safe nobody else possesses.  I feel safe with the others, obviously, especially your mother.  But Lina's brand of safety is something different.  Not that everything will be alright, or that we will find a way to overcome obstacles.  What I feel with your auntie is as if the evils of the world ceased to exist.  She can create this small bubble of air when I am drowning.  I adore her for that and so much more.</p><p>	Lina told me she wanted to talk to Anne.  It didn't mean they would be friends, it didn't mean all was forgiven on either side.  It just meant she had made a mistake and wanted to own up to it.  I told her that sounded reasonable and wished her luck.  </p><p>	She stayed downstairs a while more, she wanted to watch a movie or something similar.  But after we parted ways anxiety overcame me once more.  What if my well intentioned card distressed Anne?  Granted I could only wait until the evening came, Katherine finished classes and went to visit her cousin to the hospital; but the interval was painfully long.  Especially considering I wouldn't even be able to sleep for eight hours of it.  I'd be lucky if I squeezed in three.</p><p>	There would come a time where seeing your mother waiting for me in front of my bedroom would make my stomach feel with the stereotypical butterflies; but back then wasn't the moment.  When I went up to my room just to find Anna waiting there with an expression that I later learnt meant she would much rather dive head first into a pool full of sharks my heart sank.  It wasn't that I didn't like her, or that I despised her or anything.  She just made me anxious.  Unbearably so.  Not in the cute “I was attracted to her” manner, either.  It was obvious she disliked me and piling up more anxiety on the load I was already carrying made me shudder.</p><p>	I let her into my room regardless.  If Katherine had told her that Anne had told her what I did to Lizzy and she wanted to scream at me, better to get it out of the way as soon as possible.</p><p>	Do keep in mind I was still unaware it was your mother who had told Anne in the first place.  Or that Lizzie had told her what happened.</p><p>	All my beloved wanted to do was apologize.  She wouldn't stop running her hand through her hair.  She felt bad about how everything had happened, about how she told Anne in such a crude manner and scared Katherine to boot.  She felt so terrible about so many things she wanted to get just one off her chest.</p><p>	“Kit told me you apologized.  She's not the kind of person who likes just anyone.  And uh, even if I didn't trust her judgement I can't also ignore Lina's and Anne's.  And Jane's.  Everyone thinks you're neat, so...  Well, even if you were trash I still shouldn't accuse you of things you didn't do.  Or said something that made it sound like you did.”</p><p>	...My.  If I am bad at speaking, your mother when flustered is a close second.</p><p>	Even if her motives were selfish, just to let some steam out, I appreciated her apology.  I didn't even know she had said those things about me.  And still she was so ethical, considerate and loyal to her principles that she felt guilty about words I hadn't heard.</p><p>	From what she told me later on, she had been expecting almost any reply except “Oh.  Okay.”  But what was I supposed to say?  I mean seriously, I did not blame her.  It was factually incorrect, yes, but I've established at this point multiple times that in regards to Lizzie I was willing to accept guilt that wasn't my own.  A way of compensating of sorts for the damage I caused.</p><p>	That exchange with Anna was very uncomfortable for us both, but retrospectively it feels like it tore down a wall between us.  Future interactions would show me that cute smile of hers.  Short greetings would blossom into short conversations, those into long conversations and eventually into a friendship.  But that friendship kept on growing and its resulting flowers are embodied in the rings around our fingers.</p><p>	In short, that was an awkward but necessary step in getting close to your mother.  And yes I am a romantic fool.  I did just use flower and blossom metaphors to describe our affection.  Mock me as you see fit, my girl.  I already have the title of “most hopeless romantic” in this house.</p><p>	(Never tell her I told you, but your mother is just as tooth-rottingly sweet as I am.  She's just better at hiding it).</p><p>	In a way I was relieved Anna didn't hate me.  She was the person closest to Lizzie after Anne.  Perhaps, just maybe, Anne wouldn't despise me either.</p><p>	The following day, after many long, long hours of anxiety brewing within my heart my chest was close to bursting when Katherine came to my room.  She had two things for me: news that Anne would be discharged on the 16th of May and a handwritten note from her.</p><p>	I still have.  It is in my desk drawer as of now, along with every single thing the others have made for me.  I won't copy it verbatim, but the lowdown is that she liked the card a lot and no, she really did not hate me.  I hadn't written anything about that, I can only assume Katherine told her of my tribulations.</p><p>	Annie did ask for book recommendations, though, since she was bored.  It wasn't just boredom, she wanted to keep her mind busy and away from her thoughts about Lizzie and every other little thing that made her hate herself.  But it would take longer for her to admit to that.</p><p>	Apparently 7 books for someone who was going to leave the hospital in five days' time was “too much” and “one would have done”, as the others insisted.  But... she said “recommendations” as in “more than one”.  I wasn't about to put the bare minimum effort into it.  I cared about Anne and her recovery.</p><p>	With a date for her discharge also came the practical matter: none of us had really looked at any other flats with all that had happened and most importantly, someone needed to take care of Anne as she recovered.  Katherine, Jane and Anna had already agreed that they would do that.  Instead of moving out by the end of the month they would sign for another six months.  It was the least we could sign for with our landlord.  Jane said I was welcome to stay as well if I hadn't had the time to look for a decent living place.</p><p>	Anna invited Lina too, if only for economic reasons.  Lina said she did not wish to be a bother, to which Anna and I enthusiastically said she wouldn't be.  Katherine agreed only halfheartedly and Jane resigned herself to shrug.</p><p>	Needless to say, it would be longer than six months.  We signed for a five year period the following time, the maximum we could sign for with our landlord.</p><p>	It felt like a weight had been lifted off me though, my spirits as light as the birds chirping outside.  It was over breakfast when we decided that.  I hadn't realized how much the prospect of being alone weighed me down.  I obviously knew I was not fond of the idea; but to what degree only became noticeable when I could barely contain my hands from flapping in excitement.</p><p>	It was the first time I was that happy since we woke up.</p><p>	It turned out another reason Annie wanted books was because she spent a lot of her free time reading about Lizzie.  Slowly she came to terms with the fact that it wasn't her fault she was stopped from saving her princess.  After reading all about your sister's accomplishments and her life Anne decided she wanted to be a person that would make her daughter proud.  That, in the event there was an afterlife and her daughter was watching over her, she did not wish to be a mess without regards for even her own well-being.  She aimed to be someone deserving of the honour of being Lizzie's mother.  </p><p>	And the first step for that was starting therapy.  Of her own free will.  I will have you know, none of us were that eager to accept professional help.  For someone who still finds herself to be a nuisance at times, our dearest Annie gave us no problems to get her started on her road to recovery.</p><p>	But of course, I can picture no greater motivation than wanting to impress one's child.</p><p>	One afternoon, during movie night, with Kitty asleep on her lap, Anne looked at her and told me, for no apparent reason, that just because she had been unable to save Lizzie didn't mean she didn't want to save someone else.  She had seen Katherine's concern for her, her constant visits to the hospital.  During a sleepy haze she even heard her cousin asking God to heal Anne in exchange for her own life.</p><p>	Katherine was an atheist, by the way.</p><p>	I don't think she ever told Katherine that, while Lizzie became her spiritual motivation to recover and do better, Kitty was her tangible one.  I think Katherine would have liked to know that.  I hope she knows now.</p><p>	When Anne came back home she was weak, but she managed a smile.  It was a Saturday, thank goodness, and none of us were away at work or school.  She asked to be in the living room and Katherine curled up next to her immediately.  The first thing Anne did was apologize to us all for giving us a scare and thank us for our concern.  She promised she would never let something of such caliber happen again.</p><p>	She did admit even then that a lot of her recovery was thanks to us showing her that we cared.  And how could we not?</p><p>	I wish Annie could see herself like we see her.  As dazzling, amazing and wonderful as she is.  She shines brighter than all the sparkly things she loves to watch.  I wish she liked regarding herself as much as she does her 10 glitter jars.</p><p>	One for each one of us, in case you're curious.  The one named after you is the purple one, since it's your favourite colour.  Anne made it herself because she couldn't find a shade of purple online that made you giggle.</p><p>	Oh, yes.  You indirectly chose the colour when you were a toddler.  Auntie Anne sat with you and showed you purple things until she found a tone you liked.</p><p>	This would be a nice place to close this chapter, my girl, but that was not the end.  We were three days away from your auntie's death day and Lina wanted to talk to her before.  That Saturday Anne spent most of her time asleep watching Disney movies with Kitty, Jane and Anna.  Even me, once she insisted I join them during a trip of mine to refill my coffee cup.</p><p>	I did, but for a short while.  Then I went with Lina.  I didn't want her to feel dejected.  </p><p>	The following morning, after Anne woke up from a slumber of almost eleven hours feeling better and more refreshed, Lina asked her if they could talk.  Katherine and I were in the living room discussing books, one of our very first conversations.  We gave them privacy, but we were very anxious.  Our words fizzled out and we just went back to our Sundays: Kitty had to study with Anna's and I was working on the first series of short stories I ever got published.</p><p>	It's...  Well, I published it under a pseudonym.  Hopefully you won't find it, I am really ashamed of my first story.  I know I shouldn't be, that everyone's first in everything is always the worst.  But with the books I have published in more recent times certainly you won't feel the need to read the first one, specifically.</p><p>	(In case you want to, Mary knows the name.  Ask her.  But don't go too hard on me, it was my first time writing fantasy.)</p><p>	Lina and Anne have kept an airtight lock around their conversation.  All we know is that, hours later, Jane called Anna, Kitty and myself and told us to be quiet.  We found Lina and Anne asleep on the couch, leaning against each other.  Lina's hand was firmly around Anne's.</p><p>	Kitty took a picture of them.  It was an adorable sight.</p><p>	The only thing Lina disclosed after being showed the photograph was that anxiety about talking to Anne had kept her up all night and she was tired.  Anne was ill, it was normal she would fall asleep.</p><p>	Anne's mood improved significantly after that, and so did Lina's.  Overall that boosted the household's ambiance.  The two of them were extastic.  After all, it's not every day you rekindle your friendship with someone you met half a century prior.</p><p>	It was a boost Annie would need to get through her death day.  If they are generally exhausting, recovering from sepsis hers was the most brutal one to date.</p><p>	On midnight of the 19th Anne was asleep.  Jane had stayed with her to watch her overnight and all she said was that her cheeks got wet unnaturally.  Not that Anne cried in her slumber; that her cheeks soaked up as if she had cried before falling asleep.  She had a very fitful rest, despite her body being exhausted.</p><p>	And still until six AM she was relatively calm.  All of us filed into her room that night, eventually Lina taking Jane's place so Janey could rest a bit.  At around six Anne was “awoken” by the invisible Ladies that Lina and Katherine had already conversed with.  But Annie was much quieter.  She asked them, over and over, to take care of Lizzie.</p><p>	Losing her girl was all she cared about.  Her subtle fear made brought more than one of us to tears; myself included.</p><p>	The motions to reach the scaffold were what we were already expecting from Katherine's death day, except this time we had the foot rest ready.  The difference being we didn't need it: Anne's motionless walking was right in front of her bed.  When, after delivering her speech flawlessly, she bent down, she did not fall.</p><p>	After her neck did the thing and her scar opened just a little, she shot up in panic, crying.  All the while Jane had been terribly silent.  When Anne snapped out of it Jane melted into a puddle of apologies.  Anne pulled Jane onto the bed with her and motioned for Kitty to join them.  </p><p>	Despite being exhausted it was obvious Anne did not wish to be alone.  She didn't ask us per se, but the others understood that she wanted to be downstairs with us.  Anna helped her down and placed her between her cousins once more.  Lina and I were in the doorway, still a bit uncertain if we were intruding or not.  Then Annie mad literal grabby hands towards us.  Lina took Jane's other side and I occupied the remaining armchair.</p><p>	We put movies on.  Lina and Anna called in sick.  Your mother also said that Katherine was sick, insisting it was a household stomach bug.  Jane had already left a sign saying she would be closed and nobody really knew if I worked or not.</p><p>	Anne was allowed to choose the movie, but she was out like a light in the first three minutes of Frozen.  Still, she did not wish to be alone, so we wouldn't leave her.</p><p>	At some point Jane grabbed Lina's hand.  That exchange was enough for Lina to know that Jane was sorry she had been so harsh on her and wanted to be friends again.  Lina squeezed her hand, and in turn that signaled to Jane that Lina would love that.  I chose not to question the magic of non-verbal communication and just revelled in the scene: we were all watching a movie together.  After Anne fell asleep Kitty joined Anna on the armchair.  You should have seen your mother's smile.  She wasn't even paying attention to the movie, she was just glad everything between her and her girl was alright.</p><p>	Anne's recovery wasn't easy.  Then again, whose was?  Have we even recovered?  I would say no, but that is fine in its own right.  At every step of the way we have been the best we could be and done our best.</p><p>	Much more importantly, from that day forward, we were together.  Unquestionably and unarguably, beyond a shadow of a doubt.</p><p>	Anne's death day was a far cry from Lina's, or even Katherine's.  Not in my wildest dreams would I have imagined we would be sitting in the living room watching Frozen.  It was a moment I wish I had snapped a picture of, because it was perfect.</p><p>	We weren't a family, not quite yet, but for the first time it seemed we could be one.  With time, patience and love, we would get there.</p><p>	But as much as everything seemed bright, the thoughts in Anna's mind were dark.  Even with the joy of having Kitty again, even with Anne being safe, uncertainty was eating away at her little by little.  Her happiness was as frail as a butterfly's wings.  All it took was a little bit of stress for her to collapse.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And done~!  I'm a bit anxious about this one, ngl.  Constructive criticism is always welcome, as are any and all interactions.  Thank you for reading and until next time~!!</p><p>Oh btw!!  If i get any British english wrong it's because i'm not British myself.  English isn't even my first language.  But apologies just in case.  Have a great day everyone, and take care</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. School Girls</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi~!!  Another short, introductory chapter because once more i miscalculated how long the actual chapter would be.  This is the antechamber, so as to speak, of Anna's actual chapter.  Which is written already and just pending proof-reading.  However i'm not sure i'll have time to do that today and i really wanted to get this out, so here it is.</p><p>One last short thing before i go on to the CWs: i don't really have a choice at this point but to retcon the first chapter a little.  There is no way this was written in a week, let alone a day.  I haven't done it yet and it won't change the story in the slightest, but it's a change that's coming.  Basically being aware her death day was coming Cathy began to write the "letter" in advance, leaving the intro for last because she finds beginnings harder than any other part of writing and wasn't sure how to properly prelude the tale she had to tell until it was written.  So technically the date on the letter is still right; it was just written at the end.</p><p>Okay and now enough of me rambling.  CWs for this chapter:</p><p>-Bullying in school by fellow classmates (and mentioned bullying from house mates at home, but that's been covered in previous chapters already)<br/>-Teachers and staff doing little to nothing to prevent said bullying<br/>-Psychological bullying<br/>-Physical bullying (mention of the bloody nose brought up in Lina's chapter; a thing that merits its own CW and is listed below)<br/>-Death threats (not described)<br/>-Suicide baiting (mentioned)<br/>-Briefly hinted at suicidal ideation<br/>-Trauma victim believing herself to deserve punishment and to be at fault for the abuse she endured<br/>-Katherine's situation mentioned (as always nondescript)<br/>-Mention of a bleeding mouth <br/>-Getting pushed down stairs (this is what i meant by warranting its own CW)<br/>-Wrist fissure as a consequence of said fall (mentioned)<br/>-Self-isolating to cope with self-hatred<br/>-Very surface-level mentions of sepsis recovery (if Anne's chapter wasn't a problem this shouldn't be either)<br/>-Mentioned knee subluxation (hEDS symptom)</p><p>I think that does it.  Anyways thank you very much for your time, i hope you enjoy the chapter~!!  And thank you everyone for your continued support~!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Getting adjusted to the new dynamic of actually living together and not just sharing a house wasn't as easy as it may seem.  While it was a definite improvement there was a lot of uncertainty baked in: what was overstepping?  How were we to go about asking about boundaries?  What if someone crossed one of ours by accident and we didn't want to make her feel bad for it?  </p><p>	It was nice, but apparently everything needed to have a downside the first year of our new lives.  It was also incredibly stressful.  Sentences like “Is it okay if I join you?”,  “It's fine if you're too busy”, “Hey, sorry, but do you mind coming back later?”, “Oh no, it's alright; you didn't do it on purpose” and the like flooded our daily lives.</p><p>	But still we were falling into a routine.  Not just a practical one like we had established for Lina's anxiety.  A routine of togetherness: Jane preferred baking alone unless someone was helping her read a new recipe; but if she was embroidering, knitting or anything similar she would rather have company.  Lina would gladly ramble incessantly about wrong exam answers to anyone who would listen, Anna liked working out with a friend, etc.  Over time the questions minimized until they faded away, but at the start they seemed to be omnipresent.</p><p>	In a sense we were like little children asking their parents everything.  Except instead of trying to understand the world around us (which could be challenging in its own right) we were trying to understand each other.</p><p>	Some times, though, the ceaseless queries could be a tad more uncomfortable.  Nightmares and night terrors were still an occurrence.  Our companionship seeped into the night along with the moon and stars and we increasingly found each other in someone's room if we heard sniffles or screams.  It wasn't just Lina and I doing it, it became a generalized and expected course of action.</p><p>	That did not mean we were ready to discuss the horrors that kept us awake just yet.  Often times checking up on Anne landed someone with a pillow thrown at her face.  Your auntie isn't the best at dealing with being overwhelmed.  It took some trial and error to realize she did not have a problem with being comforted; but rather with being crowded.  Lina only spoke of her nightmares with me, Jane cried until someone woke her up...  I, personally, was okay with Lina sitting with me for a while talking about anything else.  Eventually Jane and the others, too.</p><p>	Finding solid footing was an effort that often came hand in hand with awkwardness.  But I would do it again a thousand times over.  Seeing how delicate we were with one another also had its sweetness; a constant reminder that we were no longer alone in this confusing century.  Whichever tribulations life threw our way we had friends.</p><p>	In all that unity and euphoria there were still two people who were exclusively on cordial terms.  Katherine and Lina didn't seem to connect over anything in particular.  We were all trying to get them to fit in with each other as they did the rest of us.  Anna invited Katherine when she was playing Scrabble with Lina, Jane tried getting Lina to bake with Kitty and her, Anne did her best to get them to play Smash together...  No matter what we threw their way they were always, without exceptions, “Katherine” and “Miss Catalina” to each other.  The rest of us had finally gotten Kitty to drop the ridiculous formalities with us and she did not mind when we called her abbreviations of her name, or even pet names.</p><p>	It wasn't that they disliked each other.  Quite the opposite, once they finally began bonding it was hard to find them apart.  Lina was convinced Katherine hadn't forgiven her for her out of line words upon waking up and Katherine was certain Lina must despise her for having been so annoying to make sure she was eating properly.</p><p>	Communication is key, Mae.  Never forget.  If they had just talked about their perceptions of the situation they would have saved a lot of time.</p><p>	The event that got them to start speaking at long last is kind of tied to the issue your mother went through that I am going to explain, so bear with me.  It was a combination of this, the pre-existing issues this triggered for her and having “caused” (as she saw it) Anne's sepsis that made your mother snap.</p><p>	I have alluded to, but greatly skimmed over, Katherine's relationship with her classmates.  You may have gathered she was being bullied from the mention of her getting a bloody nose, but regretfully that was far from the extent of it.</p><p>	Shortly after Anne came back home Katherine began secluding herself.  If she wasn't comforting Anne or interacting with someone she was in her room.  Not in anybody else's, not in a common living area to spend time with the rest.  She stayed alone, locked away from us.</p><p>	Especially from Anna.  </p><p>	Your mother was so confused.  Everything between them seemed to be fine after Anne came back from the hospital.  They had cleared everything up, Kitty knew Anna would never put her in harm's way.  And still seemingly overnight Katherine resumed keeping her distance.</p><p>	“Finals.  Busy” was all the explanation she gave when someone asked.  “Nothing personal.”</p><p>	Kitty was a fantastic liar.  She didn't like it, but if she wanted to convince someone that she was okay she could be shattering and nobody would notice.  She had to be very, very hurt for her emotions to show against her will.  Either that or she had to feel comfortable showing vulnerability.  I don't think she ever got to that point.  She had a yo-yo relationship with being noticeably vulnerable until the end: she would switch between periods of being very open and honest about her feelings with others of answering a curt “fine” every time we asked about her.</p><p>	She was good at lying; but a liar she was not.  The only things she ever kept from us were her feelings.</p><p>	Full disclosure: I cannot help but feel we could have done something better to assist her with that.  I know, on a rational level, that the wounds that made her push us away were so deep within her nobody could reach them.  I guess I just wish we could have made that pain ease.</p><p>	All we wanted was for her to feel safe.  To relax.  I do hope she has found peace at last.</p><p>	I have also talked around your auntie's broken mind: how she thought she deserved everything that had happened to her, how she accumulated guilt to the point of bursting and how, by proxy, she was certain she deserved to be mistreated by us as well.  While going into details now would be redundant given who was next to fall, I believe you need to understand the essence of it, at the very least.</p><p>	After spending her life being convinced she was not a person with her own free will, but rather a doll to use and discard who was rotten and evil to the core, Katherine internalized those statements.  I can only imagine what being neglected from childhood can do to a person.  To top that off with abuse from everyone who promised the affection she was starved for was devastating.  </p><p>	People took and took and took from Katherine with no regards for her feelings until all that was left was a husk of a person.  It was then that she met your mother, the only person who ever gave in return, who cared for her.  Anna was the embodiment of everything Katherine had dreamed of.  With Anna, Katherine felt at relative ease.  </p><p>	'Relative' because at that point she was so convinced there was something inherently wrong with her that she held no doubts she had somehow fooled Anna.  That she was putting up a good, “pure” persona to lure your mother and that were Anna to ever see Katherine as she “truly” was Anna would be repulsed by her mere existence.</p><p>	Granted no such thing would have ever happened.  But Katherine was unaware.</p><p>	In their first life that anxiety ate away at her for a very short period of time: Anna was Queen for a little over seven months; and Katherine wasn't with her since the beginning.  But in this life, being directly placed under Anna's responsibility Katherine felt the pressure multiply: if she did one thing wrong, made the slightest mistake, then Anna would hate her, see her for what she truly was and send her away.  </p><p>	What she truly was, in case you are wondering, was a brilliant person.  Your auntie was kind, gentle, fiercely caring, warm, soft, brave...  I could go on for hours.  I can still conjure up her sweet smile in my mind, her hearty giggles.  I remember how I felt my heart burst whenever I held her.  How tightly she hugged everyone, how she comforted us with maturity beyond her age...</p><p>	It's been two years and I still cannot believe she's gone, Mae.  It is hard to imagine a life without her.  The day she was murdered the world darkened a little, they robbed us of her light.</p><p>	However she saw none of that.  Instead she regarded herself with disgust.  She feared that if she let us in we would see the revolting sight that tormented her and, consequently, hate her as much as she did herself.</p><p>	That was one of the main reasons she was so terrified of growing close to even more people; but more about your auntie in a second.  As of now I am just giving you context.</p><p>	Unwittingly, all your aunties and I reinforced those views for her: “my beheading was the actual result of years of trauma and manipulation” Katherine understood as “Anne is right.  I didn't suffer, I'm just oversensitive”.  “How hard was it to keep your legs closed?” she saw as “Cathy's right.  I must have done something to seduce them.  It was my fault, I can't complain now.”  “The least relevant Katherine” to her read as “Lina saw right through me: she knows I'm worthless”.  And “Nobody cared when you died” translated to “Jane's right.  Why would anyone care about something like me?”</p><p>	Now while I do think there must be a special place in hell for me and the others for having regarded someone who was very obviously a child and thought those were appropriate things to say, nobody really knew about it back then.  Anna was aware I was hostile towards Katherine at first, but she never knew to what degree.  I will remind you those four incidents happened before Lina's death day.  The thoughts that our words solidified for Katherine brewed and festered for months by the time the end of May rolled around.  She was convinced that she was vile for “fooling” everyone into liking her.  Above the rest of us your mother, of course.</p><p>	So when things in class with her classmates escalated from insults to bloody noses she said nothing.  She thought it was well-deserved punishment.  Mind you, your auntie couldn't name why she was evil or how exactly she was trying to deceive people.  She just believed she was so twisted she could do such things and be a bad person on autopilot, without making the conscious decision to be.</p><p>	No, it makes no sense.  It lacks logic because there is no way your auntie could have ever been anything but a good person.  She was the only one unable to see that.</p><p>	When the physical violence turned more dangerous, with death threats, Katherine did not bring it up.  She figured if someone were to carry the threat out and she weren't around it would be better for the rest of us.  </p><p>	Curse her for thinking that.  She never got to see the wreck this house became when she died.  She never saw my heart bleed for her.</p><p>	Lastly, when she began receiving notes daring her to end herself, she also remained silent.  The words taunted her from the crumpled pieces of paper shoved into her bookbag and locker.  After all they were the very same words she had thought for the short duration of both her lives.  The ones we had already confirmed were true.</p><p>	“No one cared when you died.”  “You were irrelevant.”  “You deserved it.”  “It wasn't abuse; just punishment.”</p><p>	The logical course of action was retreating into herself.  Away from us before we ever got see her “dark self.”  Before Anna looked at her with repulsion in her eyes.  After all, if even her classmates who barely knew her saw through her supposed façade, how long would it take for us to see as well?</p><p>	It was the first of June when the cat came out of the bag.  After almost two full weeks of Katherine avoiding everyone Lina saw a note being passed in her class, towards the end of the period.  It was the last month of classes, she was willing to be lenient.  But then the note was passed once more, and another time, until finally it was placed on Katherine's desk.  A group of seven students was regarding her, barely able to contain shit-eating grins.  At that Lina took action and confiscated the note.</p><p>	I will spare you the details, my girl.  Its contents were rather gruesome.  The abridged (and heavily censored) version of it, is that those spineless cowards were telling Katherine she would make the world a better place if she ridded herself of it.  Who would miss her, the -according to them- poor woman that had been burdened with her?  No, she would be thankful to have that weight lifted off her.</p><p>	I have a knot in my stomach.  I wanted to suppress these memories forever.</p><p>	Lina could not believe what was in her hands.  She also could not fathom how Katherine, who had read the note, was indifferent.  She was so tired, her eyes sunken with sleep deprivation.  Lina told me that very same day, voice trembling with outrage, how Kitty just looked at her and shrugged when asked how long that had been going on for.</p><p>	“A month maybe?  I don't know anymore.”</p><p>	Lina sent the culprits straight to the principal's office and instructed Katherine to wait for her even after the bell rang.  It was last period, so she would meet her at the teacher's lounge hallway.  </p><p>	First she took the bullies (the terms feels ridiculously childish for the fiends those girls were) to see the principal personally.  She was going to make sure they got expelled.  At the very least she most certainly tried.</p><p>	This would be an appropriate time to mention that two of the brats that were tormenting my kitten were the superintendent's twins.  Lina accompanied them to see the principal in hopes that her presence would change the predictable outcome.  However it mattered not.</p><p>	The principal concluded the note's writing was too ambiguous to pin on one of them.  And of course, technically it could have been anyone.  Who knew if these girls had been giggling about something else?  According to him it was a matter of correlation and not causation.  To make matters worse after dispatching the students he warned Lina that if she ever dared put the superintendent's girls under scrutiny without solid evidence again she would face dire consequences.</p><p>	Lina was irate.  Some students were suicide baiting a poor girl and because the principal wanted no issues with the superintendent she was expected to turn a blind eye.  She asked if Katherine were to give her testimony if that would change things.  Surely she knew who had been tormenting her for at least a month?</p><p>	Another important detail: Katherine had already complained to her home room teacher, the head of studies and the principal.  As much as she believed it to be earned punishment there was a brief time when Katherine thought at the very least she deserved respect from total strangers who she had not wronged.  She never gave us concrete dates; but I have always assumed it to be before everyone except for your mother turned on her.  That short window in between waking up and being torn down by us was the only time in which our girl had hopes of being loved and cared for for once.</p><p>	We ripped that from her, did we not?  Despicable.</p><p>	However remember that bloody nose I mentioned way back during March, when Lina hadn't discovered she has anxiety?  Well, the superintendent's twins also reported Katherine after that.  Mind you, by March she had long ceased reporting any verbal or physical violence aimed her way.  We had already hurt her by then.  So when two “exemplary, well-behaved” girls complained that Katherine had punched one of their friends in the nose it worked against her.</p><p>	I know I said she went to the nurse's office.  She did, but she insisted she had fallen down.  She refused to have what she saw as her rightful retribution minimized.</p><p>	When Lina was informed that Katherine's allegations of being bullied dated back to December and that she apparently “had it out for those poor girls” she knew something was wrong.  Because there was no way Katherine would do such a thing.  Not the same girl who forced her to take care of herself.  Not the same one who had forgiven Jane, who had cared for Anne throughout her hospitalization.</p><p>	Coupling all this with the note she still had in her possession made Lina extremely uneasy.  When Anna was anxious about Katherine she always told Lina.  She had more experience with teenagers, after all.  If Anna hadn't brought up that Kitty was being bullied she mustn't know.</p><p>	But it wasn't possible that Katherine had dealt with this abuse from her classmates for six months without counting on anyone, correct?  She hadn't internalized all the hate she was being showered in?</p><p>	I mean yes, that was exactly what she did.  But Lina did not want to believe it.  What kind of teacher was she if this had gone under her nose for half a year?  What sort of adult presence was she in Katherine's life to not even notice something was off about her?</p><p>	As Janey liked to put it, the situation activated Lina's “mamma mode”.  Jane had such a sweet way of talking, it rubbed off on everyone.</p><p>	Before her meeting with Katherine Lina went to the head of studies' office.  The woman confirmed that Katherine had been a target for the twins and her goons for longer than we'd been reincarnated, ever since Katherine started middle school.</p><p>	We still haven't figured out how that works.  We assume people who supposedly knew us before waking up have had their memories altered to include us by the same force that breathed life into our dormant souls.  </p><p>	The head of studies insisted that there was something really wrong with Katherine.  She knew the twins were to blame, she had encouraged Kitty multiple times to continue reporting them until something happened.  But one day she just stopped.  The head of studies tried getting Katherine to talk to the school's councilor; but that resulted in her insisting everything was alright.  </p><p>	Lina was appalled.  The final thing she asked before meeting up with Katherine and having a serious conversation with her was why the head of studies, who knew Lina shared a flat with Katherine's guardian, had never brought these concerns up.</p><p>	“I thought it would be worse for her if you knew.  You already hate her enough as is.  Why would I give you ammunition to torment her at home too?  I don't even know why you came.  Did you have a sudden attack of remorse?”</p><p>	Your auntie is dismal at keeping her emotions under check.  Even her stoniest exteriors have cracks to those of us who know her well enough.  Her indifference when she dislikes someone may be convincing to others, but there is always something to give her away.  A sharp remark, her voice wavering, her hands growing restless...  It would seem that the head of studies had worked long enough with her (or, at the very least believed she had.  It is confusing, I know) to notice as well.</p><p>	Lina never had kind words for Katherine in the hall, unlike her other students.  She graded her exams more harshly, pretended not to see her if she could...  And at the very, very beginning it may have been because she was a Howard and Lina resented the lot.  But soon enough, after her death day, it wasn't anymore.  If Lina avoided Kitty it was because she thought Katherine rightfully disliked her for her behaviour.  So she opted for staying out of her way.  Lina would not have guessed the faculty thought it was because she hated Katherine.</p><p>	But that begged a more urgent question: did Katherine believe that as well?</p><p>	Yes.  Yes, she most definitely did.  We have covered that extensively.</p><p>	On her end Katherine was positive Lina had asked her to wait to punish her.  She did not know why, but she must have done something wrong.  Perhaps she had failed to hide the note fast enough.  </p><p>	Either way, she had her apology ready when Lina joined her.  Before your auntie could get a word in Katherine was already reciting her lines.</p><p>	“It was so disturbing.  Really, really messed up” Lina told me later that day.  She was frowning so much, I think she had a headache.  “She was standing there, staring at me but I doubt she was seeing anything.  It was like she'd been programmed to apologize for being harassed and abused by those disgusting little-- runts, you know what I mean?  She was numb.”</p><p>	When Lina reassured her she had nothing to apologize for Katherine was skeptical at best.  She wasn't ready to believe Lina was on her side, that she wanted to protect her.  For every gentle word Lina gave her Katherine spat poison in return until she could no longer take the stress.</p><p>	“Why are you doing this?” she said, hugging herself.  “You already know I deserve it anyways.  How does it matter if I don't want to report them?”</p><p>	That she deserved it?  Whatever was hurting Katherine was no longer limited to school issues.  It was personal, it required a friend; not a teacher.  Lina insisted she would drive Katherine home, she just had to wait for Lina to gather her things.</p><p>	When she came out of the teacher's lounge with her bags and found the hallway empty she figured Katherine fled.  Just like she had when she walked to school without as much as letting Anna know.</p><p>	However your auntie was waiting by the car.  She had thought of leaving by herself, but something was bothering her.</p><p>	“You can't tell Anna.  Please.”</p><p>	Granted, Anna had to know.  The note was repulsively graphic and it wasn't even an isolated incident.  Of course, Lina was aware that telling Katherine that would scare her away.  That was the last thing Kitty needed.  Instead she offered a deal: she would let Katherine inform Anna when she felt ready on her own terms, but she had to let Lina drive her home.  They needed to talk.</p><p>	Katherine was beyond annoyed, but she agreed.  Anything to keep her secret from Anna.</p><p>	Lina apologized for her behaviour and explained why she believed keeping her distance from Katherine was what she wanted.  Like with me Katherine disagreed, but she wasn't as calm about it.  She rubbed her eyes in frustration and wondered why everyone felt the need to apologize for being right.  If we had already seen her for the (and I quote) “useless harlot” she was then why were we so adamant on pretending we cared?</p><p>	If her first out burst had just been the iceberg breaching the surface, following said metaphor this breakdown was but the tip popping out.  As much as your auntie tried to keep her messy feelings inside she could not help but eventually crack.</p><p>	It's been eight years and I still wish I could go back in time and comfort her.  I was not in that car ride yet I vehemently wish I had been, knowing all I know now, to tell her how wrong she was.  </p><p>	What would have, months prior, been fodder for Lina to hate herself she managed to give another angle to: she had made a grave mistake and what was called for wasn't for her to pity herself, but to do something about it.  She could not take her words back, but she could try to mend the damage she had caused with new ones.</p><p>	Therapy can do wonders, Mae.  If you ever need it do not let anyone shame you into not reaching out.</p><p>	If Katherine hadn't intervened in March Lina would not have started seeing her psychologist, though.  She wouldn't have been able to keep her wits about her in that situation.  As such she was unwilling to let the person who had rescued her drown.</p><p>	She stopped the car at a park, claiming she had never promised to take her home straight away.  Per Lina's description Katherine regarded her with such intensity that if gazes could kill Lina would have dropped dead on the spot.</p><p>	Katherine and her walked until night fell.  Lina didn't know why Kitty was unable to accept she did not deserve to be hurt or punished for anything, but she figured it was none of her business.  If Katherine ever wanted to tell her she would let her do it when and how she saw fit.</p><p>	As for Kitty...  She was exhausted, Mae.  She had been waging war against herself since we woke up.  The prospect that maybe just maybe perhaps she was wrong about herself and she was not a bad person gave her new hope.  She admired Lina, after all, and deeply so.  Even if she had wronged Anne, she had owned up to it.  Katherine always held those who accepted their mistakes in high esteem.  Other than that Lina is just... need I describe your auntie, my princess?  There is something regal about her even in this life.  Instead of finding it intimidating like others do, Katherine found it mesmerizing.</p><p>	As she saw it, perhaps if she had been good enough, like Lina, she would not have “attracted bad people”.  That is a direct quote from her.  Not once, until almost a year into our reincarnation, did Katherine not hold herself accountable for the abuse she had endured.</p><p>	You know that movie you make me watch all the time, “The Prince of Egypt”?  I pray you still enjoy that film when you read this.  Partly because it is a good movie, but mostly because it is our favourite “mummy and daughter time” movie, as you call it.  I hope you hold it near and dear to your heart as I do.</p><p>	Anyways, in case you don't remember, your favourite song is “When You Believe”.  You know all the lyrics by heart.  One of the lines reads “Though hope is frail it's hard to kill.”</p><p>	That would not be the case for auntie Kitty.  All it would take to extinguish her hope would be an incident at an ice-cream parlor involving a hot beverage being poured on her.  More on that soon.</p><p>	For the time, the hope was still warming Katherine's heart.  Perhaps she could face Anna and not feel bad about it?  Maybe Lina was right, maybe there was nothing wrong with her.  If Lina, who had no ties with her or obligation to be kind, was going out of her way to comfort her then there must be at least some good within her, right?</p><p>	It was enough to make Katherine smile.  And, as Lina told us later on, that gentle grin was more than enough for her to know that she would do whatever necessary to keep Katherine safe and happy as long as possible.</p><p>	Lina had texted Anna that she was with Katherine and both were alright hours prior, but your mother was anxious regardless.  Lina and Kitty were not known for their bonding time, precisely.  I was in the living room with Anne, she had asked me to give her the link to the blog I work for and wanted to discuss some entries.  Jane was with us, testing out her new screen reader and piping up occasionally.  Your mother was there, too, but I remember how quiet she was.  She was on her phone, trying to look nonchalant, but her silence spoke volumes for her.  Anna isn't the quietest person.  Normally she would have either been by herself or involved in our conversation.</p><p>	I think she preferred being alone, but she wanted to see Katherine was indeed safe even more.  The living room was the closest place to the entrance hall.</p><p>	When the door clicked open she practically jumped to her feet.  Her movement was sudden, but even more so was Katherine quite literally dashing into her arms.  Kitty kept most of her affection behind closed doors; there was a certain anxiety to having witnesses to her demonstrations of love.  In more than one way did court life seep into our second chance, and feeling the need to keep a cold exterior at all times was one of them for Katherine.</p><p>	After all, she was killed because her ““affairs”” were made public.  It would take a lot of adjusting for her to realize nobody was going to hurt her for being open about affection.</p><p>	Behind Kitty's back Lina gestured “I'll tell you later” to our questioning gazes.  All that mattered at that moment were Anna's wide smile and Katherine's tight embrace.</p><p>	After dinner, while Katherine tried to convince Anne to go to sleep (she was exhausted but goodness me was it hard to get her to rest, blood infection and all), Lina pulled Jane, Anna and I to the side and informed us of the troubling events.  We all needed to be extra supportive of Katherine, especially Anna.  However none of us were to tell Kitty we knew, otherwise it would work against Lina.  Breaching Katherine's trust within the first few hours of their friendship, if Katherine had ever known, would have damaged their potential bond irreparably.</p><p>	Another person who could not know was Anne.  She needed to be calm during her recovery.  The deep desire to throttle spoiled brats would not be precisely a relaxing emotion.</p><p>	The days that came we all followed Lina's suggestion and spent more time with Katherine.  Even if she rebuffed us we asked if she needed help with finals, how her day had been, and the like.  Anna was practically within five feet of Kitty ever since she stopped actively avoiding her, trying to make up for lost time.</p><p>	For a while Katherine seemed to do better.  She smiled more, laughed a bit louder, began hanging out with us in the living room...  Because for the first time since waking up perhaps she could call our house a safe haven.  She could leave the cruelty of the world locked outside and shield herself from it among us.</p><p>	After all the people who hurt her she knew to be bad people.  Among many other things they had harassed Lina, something a good person would never do.  Katherine was pretty certain we weren't bad, given how we treated each other and especially Anna's trust in us.  She was Katherine's reference point at the start, the one person she knew was good.  If Anna liked us then we must be as well.  And, if we liked Kitty, then so must she.</p><p>	I think reaching that conclusion provided the most mental stability she would gather for a very long time.</p><p>	But of course, her tormentors would not allow her any respite.  They had more or less backed off after Lina intervened, but they had not given up.  On the last week of school Katherine was pushed down a flight of stairs.</p><p>	It was in between classes.  Katherine had taken a short detour to the bathroom, so the halls were mostly empty and she was running a bit late.  As she walked into the stairwell one of the twins pushed her, wishing her a happy trip to hell.</p><p>	To this day we do not know if she really meant for your auntie to die in the fall.</p><p>	Katherine had a minor concussion and a fissure in one of her wrist bones aside from dozens of bruises, but was otherwise miraculously fine.  One of her knees did swell up in what we now suspect may have been a subluxation, but it healed in a matter of days.</p><p>	The stairwell must be close to the teachers' lounge because Lina heard the commotion.  It was her who went to investigate.  The head of studies came out after Lina told her to call an ambulance.  The only people there were them, waiting anxiously by Kitty's side.</p><p>	“I didn't know she was okay” Lina explained later, at home, looking at Anne and Kitty sleeping together on the couch with tender fondness.  “Her mouth was bleeding; for all I knew she'd busted something important.  I thought I was going to have a heart attack, Cath.”</p><p>	Fortunately Lina had long been prescribed beta blockers for emergencies.  She asked the head of studies to bring her her bag while the ambulance was called.  The two of them had what Lina described as “a wordless conversation” after Katherine was taken.  They decided the twins' reign of terror had ended.  They went to the principal and reported having witnessed the incident happen.</p><p>	“I hate that I had to lie, but what was I to do?  Let them get away scot-free so they could hurt her again?  What would have been next, smuggling a blade to school and stabbing her?  What were they doing to other students?  What would they do if they got away from this without punishment?  It had to stop.”</p><p>	If Lina alone had allegedly seen the push she would have probably been ignored.  Justice was served because the head of studies had also had enough of the twins' immunity.  Despite the fiends insisting over and over they had been in class their teacher could not vouch for them; and everyone had seen them come in late.  The evidence was overwhelming and they were expelled at last.  </p><p>	I am glad we were able to eliminate two of the troubles in Katherine's life effectively.</p><p>	Other than being a bit shaken and annoyed at how warm her cast made her, Katherine was fine.  She asked us all to sign the plaster around her arm and we did so with pleasure.  I believe she caught me off guard when she asked me and I wound up scrawling a little heart that she found adorable and took a picture of.  Though that may have been when she dislocated her knee; I am not fully certain.</p><p>	Surprisingly getting pushed down a flight of stairs, as far as we can tell, had not ill effects on Katherine's psyche.  Perhaps because her abusers were gone after that incident; or because after months of psychological torture she had grown desensitized.  If anything, I believe the extra attention she got while she was injured helped consolidate in her mind that she was wanted in the house.</p><p>	It also progressed her relationship with Lina.  They finally had building blocks for their friendship based on something other than pestering each other out of concern.</p><p>	For your mother the incident was an entirely different story, though.  From here on out I will replace the saying “the straw that broke the camel's back” with its Spanish equivalent “the drop that made the glass overflow.”  The English proverb gives me a rather unnerving mental image I would rather avoid, my girl.  Animals suffering, even in hypothetical situations, make me uneasy.</p><p>	As such, following Anne's sepsis, your mother found Katherine's fall to be the drop that made the glass overflow.  As if an actual glass had really overflowed and had made your mother slip and fall into a dark spiral of despair.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And done~!!  Idk why i use the ~ all the time srsly.  Anyways Anna's chapter is coming hopefully today and at the latest tomorrow.  By my time zone's standards.  I hope everyone has a magnificent day~!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Loneliness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Did, in fact, manage to proofread it all!  Hi again, not much to add since last chapter.  Other than the chapter titles are probably trash and that makes sense because i'm atrocious at titling things.  I have named one of my cacti Python 2 because of my programming course.  Python 2 deserves a better parent</p><p>Okay, so CWs:</p><p>-Unspecified eating disorder (i don't really like writing graphic things)<br/>-Very vaguely, blink-and-you'll-miss-it referenced purging<br/>-Mentioned throwing up unrelated to eating disorders<br/>-Difficulty eating in public<br/>-Shame associated with eating disorders<br/>-Phantom pains<br/>-Non-verbal episode and mild sensory overload from ASD character (at this point you know how those go so if you've been okay with them in previous chapters this should be fine)<br/>-Katherine's past mentioned<br/>-Loneliness<br/>-Unhealthy coping mechanism<br/>-Sepsis recovery (mentioned, nondescript)<br/>-Implied suicidal ideation (again very light)<br/>-Survivor's guilt<br/>-A brief mention of bullying and being pushed down stairs<br/>-Home sickness<br/>-Body shaming (three sentences)<br/>-Insecurity regarding one's appearance<br/>-Mentioned heart palpitations<br/>-Undiagnosed ASD character feeling bad/responsible about her struggles<br/>-Aromantic character unaware that she is aromantic dating for a short while (brief mention, skimmed over -so basically three-sentence Clevelyn-)</p><p>I'm pretty sure that does it.  Anyways, i hope you enjoy~!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I assume you must be sensing a pattern at this point: for efficiency's sake I gloss over people and the inner workings of their mind and trauma until they need be discussed.  I believe I may have alluded to your mother dealing with survivor's guilt.  This would be the time it becomes relevant to address that.</p><p>	While I am fairly certain you must know what it is, given your insatiable desire to attain knowledge, just in case I will give you a brief explanation: survivor's guilt is a brand of trauma that comes with having outlived a person whose death you feel directly or indirectly responsible for.  As I have also said, your mother outlived three of the most important people in her life: Bessie Blount, Eddie and Katherine.</p><p>	I think history has been cruel to your mother.  It has been to all of us, of course.  But there is something inherently twisted in portraying your mother like “the one who got lucky.”  Luck is not something anyone who had the misfortune of being subjugated to Henry experienced.</p><p>	For one she was taken away from her country.  Anna is very homesick, but over the years she has kept an iron chain around those feelings.  The most anyone has gotten out of her has been Lina, since their stories share similarities.  But where Lina has gone to Spain several times, your mother refuses to return to Germany.</p><p>	“It won't be the same” she told me one day.  We were sitting in the garden as the sun set.  It was a bit cold, a few months before Katherine died, and I did not feel like being touched.  We were sharing a soft blanket, though, and having a rather pleasant conversation.  Your mother was caught up in the beautiful colours of the sky.  Though perhaps she did not want to look at me.  Her eyes always grow avoidant when discussing something that hurts her.  “I feel homesick for a place; but also a time I can't go back to.  So what's the point?”</p><p>	I have learnt to take historians with a grain of salt.  It seems that your mother got along rather well with her sister; but I cannot attest to that as Anna ignores anyone who brings her up.  Or brought her up, we stopped trying to discuss that with her rather early on.  The one thing that is clear to me is that whether she currently misses (and missed the first time round, when she was held back in England) her family she most definitely feels a void regarding Germany.  She was happy there, Mae, and then she was used as a pawn traded off for the benefit of two kingdoms.</p><p>	How is that getting away easy?  How is that winning?  As “the king's dear sister” she wasn't even allowed to go back home.</p><p>	In that sense I got the better hand dealt: I was still home when it all ended.</p><p>	To make matters worse she was not allowed to remarry, either.  Had Anna met someone she could have loved she knew it would be forbidden.  She closed her heart off to meeting people, fearing that if she developed feelings for them she would be cursed with more heartache.</p><p>	Of course, that also means she shut out people who could have been friends.  The risk of growing close to someone just to have them snatched away from her was too big.  It outweighed the hole that loneliness dug in her heart.</p><p>	In turn, she never got to be a mother.  Bearing children and raising them would have made your mother truly happy.  </p><p>	“Sometimes I feel like a monster when Lina, Anne and Jane talk about their kids” she confessed one night, shortly before you children came back.  We were watching a movie before going to sleep on her computer.  The screen cast pronounced shadows around us and her voice was quiet, little more than a whisper, as if the others could hear us through the walls.  “They suffered so much for them, because they had to leave them and I was the one who saw them grow up, but...  At least they had the chance to meet them.  They bore a life in them, they held their babies.  And of course family's more than blood.  I've got Kit, right?  But I still feel like I'm missing out, and that feels unfair to both the mothers and Kit.  Does that make me a bad person?”</p><p>	My poor Anna.  There is nothing wrong with wanting to have a child.  Yearning for the feeling of a life forming inside you is not something to feel guilt about.  But I think all those years locked away in a castle with no company but that of the ghosts of her loved ones caused irreparable damage.</p><p>	I also think she censored this side of her heavily around us; especially around Katherine.  The last thing she wanted was for Katherine to feel like she wasn't enough for Anna.</p><p>	In case you are wondering: she was.  Anna loved Katherine as much as I do you.  Loves, still loves; that affection outlived Kitty.  That does not mean Anna would have been unhappy with having a child of her own.</p><p>	And yes, she sees you as her child as well.  Her desire to have experienced motherhood (moreso in her first life than in this one) has nothing to do with either of you.</p><p>	Moving on, by no means can I talk about the isolation your mother went through without bringing up Henry.  How people mocked her, laughed at her and talked ill of her behind her back.  How they lied about her (gorgeous) looks just to please Henry.  </p><p>	It was a mixture of all these things that left your mother unbearably lonely.  Unable to go back home to loved ones, unable to build a family of her own, keeping to herself in order to avoid growing close to someone who could be wrenched from her...  By the time your mother moved to Richmond she was surrounded by people who tolerated her because of her position as the king's dear sister.  No friends, no close acquaintances that could have been, no partners and no family.</p><p>	She drowned her ache to be with people in dogs.  Your mother loves those animals so much.</p><p>	The only people who she was close to were Mary, Lizzie, Edward and Katherine.  And Anna was away from all four.  She could visit them in court, of course, but that meant exposing herself to harassment.  Worse than that was dealing with Henry.  If she wanted to alleviate her loneliness, unless she got a visit from them, she had to pay the toll.</p><p>	I detailed her relationship with Katherine when I started gathering our story for you.  While Anna cared for your siblings as her family there was a barrier: they all had loving mothers.  She could not nor did she ever aim to replace them.  Her love for them was always much greater than what she got in return.  It wasn't their fault, either.  They already had mother figures to project their familial affection onto.  They all loved Anna and dearly so, but it was never to the extent she cared for them.</p><p>	By the time your mother moved to Richmond Bessie, her closest friend in court, had long passed away.  That just left auntie Kitty.  From all the wonders I have spoken about her you must imagine that she was a light in the looming void of Anna's lonely heart.  Katherine had no family who loved her, no friends.  She was not well versed in court life, and so she cared for people based on who they were and not the title they held.</p><p>	In short, Katherine loved Anna as a person; not as an authority figure.  Combined with the fact neither of them had a family (or one in England, at least) it is no oddity that they developed such a deep bond.</p><p>	When Anna was informed she would get a divorce she was overjoyed.  The torture was over.  She began to imagine her life from that point forwards: in a palace, without anyone to tell her what to do, with Katherine beside her.  Because it wasn't like Katherine was a particularly relevant presence in court: she had no family there, no husband to stay with.  She was not close to anyone.  Surely Henry would not mind if she left with Anna?</p><p>	Your mother could envision their life together no longer as Lady and Queen; but as friends.  As family, more like it.  Auntie Kitty to her was the only person she could give all her affection to and receive the same in return.  Anna dreamt of being free; of locking away the viciousness of court instead of her feelings for a change.  She wanted that freedom and she meant to share it with Katherine.  If she wanted to learn music, languages, arithmetic...  Whatever she desired to do, she would be free to do so.  Anna wished for little more than to spend the rest of her life with the only person left who cared for her on the same level and the same depth that Anna did.  Both of them safe with each other, keeping their distance from Henry and court.</p><p>	Of course, Henry never allowed that to happen.  He tore Anna's dreams to shreds.</p><p>	When Anna asked to take Katherine with her and Henry denied it on the grounds that he was to marry her, your mother was irate.  Katherine was a child.  He had no business hurting her that way.  Anna knew what horrors eat away at a girl's sanity when she is wed too early; if common sense weren't enough she knew first hand from Bessie.</p><p>	And still she did nothing.  What could she do?  Had she stood up to Henry nothing would have changed for Kitty, but Anna would have been gravely punished.</p><p>	She always assumed he would tire of Katherine like he did all his wives and that when the time came he would divorce her as he had Anna.  And so your mother convinced herself to be patient.  She would be lonely.  Katherine would suffer.  But if she kept her wits about herself she would be waiting for your auntie with open arms when Henry discarded her like yesterday's trash.  She would be there to pick up the pieces and the two of them could still have a life together.</p><p>	Kitty would not have to hurt alone.  Anna would not be condemned to solitude.</p><p>	Then again, that did not come true either.  Instead Henry figured nobody powerful cared enough about Katherine to mind if he had her executed.  And like the megalomaniac bastard he was, he went through with it.</p><p>	Even when the news arrived, Anna remained calm.  Executing a child was way out of line.  It was obvious Henry's ego was hurt after the rumors of Katherine's so-called “affair” with Culpeper.  But still, he would forgive Katherine right?  There was no way she would actually be beheaded...</p><p>	Anna feared that if she spoke on Katherine's behalf, that if she angered Henry further, he might actually go through with her execution out of spite.  So she stayed silent, and that silence accompanied her until February the 13th.</p><p>	Have you ever had to make a very important decision the outcome to which would be bad for you in any scenario?  Are you familiar with the numb uncertainty that takes control of your body in the days leading up to it?  How it feels like something so terrible cannot possibly be happening and at any given moment you will wake up as if from a fitful dream?  Do you know the anxiety that coats your life with every beat of your heart?</p><p>	I pray you never find yourself in such a situation.  Yet if you have, you now know how Anna felt in the days leading up to Katherine's execution.</p><p>	“It didn't feel real” your mother told me on one of the many sleepless nights after your auntie died.   “Just like it doesn't feel real now, that she's gone.  I was waiting for Henry to boast about how “merciful” he was by sparing her.  Even as I got dressed to go there that cursed morning I felt like he would just tarnish her name and let her go; she was so young.  Now and then...  I've never done enough for her.  And she's always died as a consequence.  I was the worst calamity in both her lives.”</p><p>	An overblown statement in both cases.  But that is the level of harm survivor's guilt does to someone.  I experienced it a bit myself; just not to the degree your mother did.</p><p>	For the record, Anna was the biggest blessing in Katherine's lives.  The person she could always count on, her largest source of comfort and affection.  Not once has your auntie died because of your mother.</p><p>	...Isn't it odd that I just wrote “not once has your auntie died” as if people perish more than one time and it still makes perfect sense?  Reincarnation has been an interesting ride.</p><p>	You and I know nothing could have been done to sway Henry.  His mind was made.  Targeting a young girl who had nobody to protect her was exactly his twisted way of getting satisfaction.</p><p>	I hope he is rotting in hell.  And if he isn't, if he has returned as we have, I pray he is rotting alive.  </p><p>	After Katherine died your mother was never the same.  She had a recurring dream about her until she herself died in Richmond.  The only person who she ever told about the dream was Katherine.  It would appear it was a happy dream, but it made Anna wake up crying.</p><p>	After seeing her sweetest Katherine alive and well, she had to remember her gruesome passing all over again.  It would be enough to make anyone weep.</p><p>	Richmond became a mausoleum to your mother.  To the ghosts of Bessie, Katherine and Eddie in a sense; but mostly to herself.  To the life she could have had.  Every quiet room echoed with the laughter of the children she did not bear, the voices of her friends who had long passed, the presence of the step-children she rarely saw, the looming shadows of the family she left behind and the one she could have built...  Every corner of Richmond reminded her of her solitude.  Surrounded by maids and the barking of dogs to ward off the asphyxiating loneliness.  Wishing her heart would turn to stone so she could no longer feel the pain.</p><p>	Consumed with guilt over everything.  What if she had realized Bessie was getting ill sooner?  Could she have possibly known and had her dear friend treated earlier?  Would that have saved her?  What about Eddie?  If she were still in court perhaps she would have been able to do something, anything for him?  Her poor son died a horrendous death and she wasn't even there to hold his hand.</p><p>	And what about Katherine?  What if Anna had insisted on taking her to Richmond?  What if she had attempted to convince Henry to pardon her?  What if, what it, what if.</p><p>	As obvious as it is that your mother had no control over any of that, her loneliness got the better of her.  Perhaps if she had been stronger, if she'd been prettier, if she'd tried harder to understand English folklore, none of it would have happened.  And so Anna lived the rest of her days in the deafening silence of the people who were no longer with her.</p><p>	“The one who got away easy”, apparently.</p><p>	Your mother does not like to speak about those days, but one thing I do know because it concerns me.  After Katherine's execution Anna tried to marry Henry once more, that much is true.  It was out of no desire for power, though.  My beloved thought she knew how to handle Henry better than anyone else.  Or, at the very least, that her connections to Germany would keep him from harming her.  If she wed him again, she would be protecting someone else from the fate Katherine met.  Just because she'd been unable to save Katherine did not mean she would cease trying to save someone else.</p><p>	She told me it was funny, in a way.  That the wife she'd been trying to protect (me, as Katherine's successor) would turn out to be her wife in another life.</p><p>	I know we aren't married.  We still refer to each other as such.  We do not think any church or legal system has anything to do with our bond.  It is for us and nobody else.  We never found a reason to get the government or the clergy involved in our life.  We held a symbolic wedding and that is more than enough.</p><p>	Upon waking up Anna tried to bury that guilt deep.  She saw what it did to Lina, how it ate her from the inside out.  She saw what it did to Jane, how guilt made her flay herself with ink and words.  She saw what it did to Anne, leaving her within an inch of her life.  Anna was not willing to let herself be consumed by that.  She had a new chance, a new perspective on life, and she was not going to blame herself for the deaths she could not have prevented.</p><p>	She had Katherine, after all.  At the very least she was being given the chance to protect her this time.</p><p>	Or, more accurately, that is what your mother intended.  Survivor's guilt cannot be fought with logic alone.  She would still experience horrible moments of doubt, nightmares about Eddie, Bessie and Katherine.  More than once someone caught her walking into Kitty's room in the middle of the night and either staying with her or walking out promptly after, as if she needed to reassure herself Katherine was still alive.</p><p>	Anna continued to do that even after she died.  Eventually we had to lock Kitty's room for good.</p><p>	As for her (breathtaking) looks, your mother during the first months (or maybe years.  It is really hard to know, she is steadfast on keeping her emotions concealed) of our new lives could only see flaws.  A jaw too sharp, hair too straight, shoulders too wide, hips too narrow...</p><p>	You know everything that makes her beautiful and dazzling?  As hard as it is to believe that the most beautiful woman to ever walk the earth would think that, she thought herself ugly.  Horse faced, as the despicable puppets in court said.  Their whispers would buzz in her ears if she looked at a mirror for too long, like insects she could not swat away, whispering heinous lies until she could not bear to regard herself anymore.</p><p>	And if these issues on their own were not enough, she also had to deal with that loneliness.  That feeling in the pit of her stomach that certainly she really wasn't good enough for any of us; Katherine least of all.  The girl had to despise her, right?  What else could she feel towards the woman who had waited patiently for her head to roll off the scaffold?</p><p>	“Oh, god.  Of course I'm not angry!  I'm glad you never did anything, dummy” Kitty told her when the situation inevitably exploded.  “I'm happy you survived, I was praying every night that you wouldn't do something ridiculous for me...  You lived, Anna.  Thank you for doing that.”</p><p>	“I don't think the life I lived afterwards was worth it” your mother confessed to Lina, and later to the rest of us save Kitty, after they spoke.  “It was hollow.”</p><p>	I think it makes sense, as dark as the implications are.  The enormity of Richmond and having nobody to share it with weighed down on your mother until she could no longer breathe.  Ironic how empty space, “hollowness”, as she called it, was a heavier burden than anything else could have been.</p><p>	While I am certain none of us intended to become a family upon waking up, it was something infinitely special to Anna.  This life was all she had dreamed of.  Free to make her own choices, with Katherine, and to boot in a house where there were too many people for the deafening silence to settle in and carve her out once more.  Even when alone in her room our house was always vibrant, buzzing with activity.</p><p>	Her guilt became more manageable.  Her aversion to her appearance got easier to handle.  The loneliness was gone from day one: Katherine's smile, her sweet voice, fended it off.  Later on Lina's deep conversations, Anne's energy, Janey's warmth.  And my...</p><p>	...I don't really know what, exactly.  Your mother has stated multiple times that she likes “everything” about me, although it feels like a bit of an exaggeration.  Yet whenever I ask she gets her adorably goofy grin and insists she could not be able to pick one single aspect of me she likes above the rest.</p><p>	I am well aware it is high praise bordering on flattery.  However it would be a lie to say that my heart does not flutter every time she implies I am perfect for her.  She is perfect for me, too.  Come to think of it it is also hard for me to pinpoint one isolated part of my Anna I adore especially.  I love her kindness, her determination,</p><p>	Heavens, better end it there.  I could go on for another three pages and still not be done.  I can imagine you cringing reading this, or more like skimming over your love sick mother's ramblings.</p><p>	...Actually I cannot imagine you.  What will you look like when you read this?  Perhaps you have gotten over your aversion of romantic affection that I think to a degree all children experience and instead find your mothers' affection endearing.  Not that there would be anything wrong if you haven't.  There could never be anything wrong about you, my girl.  You are too good a person.</p><p>	Musing again.  Apologies, Mae.  The prospect of never seeing you again is terrifying.  I want to hug you and never let go.</p><p>	In short, coming together meant the world to your mother.  It wasn't just a pleasant surprise, it was the accomplishment of the dream life that had been plucked from her.  She always cared about us more and sooner than she was able to admit.  </p><p>	We became a double-edged blade for her.  She was no longer alone, but she feared losing us.  Something bad happening, being stuck in a house with ghosts all over again.  Limiting her time with Katherine to the realm of dreams once more.</p><p>	Still, things were going relatively well.  On the surface, at least.  Your poor mother berated herself to no end for having snapped at Anne.  She could not shake the feeling that if she had just controlled her mouth and her rage the situation would not have ended in a near-death experience.</p><p>	To make matters worse, she had made Katherine feel unsafe.  Another life, another time to fail her.  In Anna's eyes only, of course.</p><p>	And the icing on the cake: painting me as a vile person she knew me not to be.  Perhaps at first she only cared because it was objectively unfair; but as we began to know each other and spend more time together, when she started to love me as another friend and another member of the house, the guilt gnawed away at her.  How could she have made me out to be a person I was not?</p><p>	I cannot stress enough how little I minded; but it would appear that your mother cared enough for us both.</p><p>	Those three outcomes to the same event breached the walls your mother had built for herself since waking up.  Insecurities that had already slipped past her defenses grew louder.  New ones joined their ranks, tearing away at the little self-confidence she had amassed.  She lay awake at night, wondering if Anne really was feeling better or she was just pretending for her sake.  If Katherine was honestly just tired or she was avoiding everyone because she had made her feel in peril.  If I truly did need to work on that article or I was just straying from her because I thought her to be a monster.</p><p>	It did not help that people, namely insecure men, felt the need to consistently talk about her behind her back at the gym.  If you enjoy working out you must know most of the time the people who go there are in it for either health or body image.  In both cases there is usually an aura of respect: people are aware that others may be self-conscious about their appearance and omit any comments on looks and bodies.  However there is always that group of people who, despite being a minority, project their insecurities onto others.    Loudly, at that.</p><p>	Comments about your mother's attractiveness, as few and far between as they were, made their way to her.  What before Anne's infection my Anna had been able to feel bad about, process and then shrug off began to instead pile up in her head until she had no room for clear thoughts.</p><p>	She avoided mirrors, she threw on baggy clothes that hid her shape.  While I will admit that your mother is not traditionally attractive I will also say that traditional models of attractiveness are inherently harmful.  Your mother is so beautiful.  She has the prettiest eyes, the softest hair, she is incredibly strong and fit...  I love how broad her shoulders are, I adore her dimples when she smiles.  Anna is perfect, as if her new body had been sculpted with the specific purpose of being cute in every aspect and from every angle.</p><p>	It is okay to have preferences in partners.  Most everyone has certain traits they favour over others in terms of aesthetic attraction.  If those line up with traditional views on beauty there is nothing wrong with them.  The problem is when people complain about their unwarranted opinions on others' bodies.</p><p>	While I said the problems were mainly insecure men that was in regards to frequency.  Mostly men said disdainful and objectively wrong things about your mother's beauty.  However the most persistent person to try bringing Anna down was a woman and fellow instructor at the gym.  She always made sly comments when Anna walked by, things like “People like her exist to prove that while I may not be the prettiest I sure as fuck ain't the ugliest”, “Well at least standing next to her makes me look pretty by comparison”, “A crop top?  Seriously?  My god do you think she has a mirror?”</p><p>	Nobody looks better than your mother in a crop top.  I said what I said.</p><p>	While the narrative around women bringing each other down is changing rapidly, some still fall into the fallacy that to be “feminine enough” they must be catty, jealous and every other stereotype that the patriarchy is so hellbent on pinning on all women.  Out of the handful of people who were rude to your mother she was the only woman.  Others complimented Anna, said they would like to have her muscle tone and the like.  Gym goers and co-workers alike.  One of my favourite things about this century is how we are beginning to build each other up instead and stand together.</p><p>	However, despite being the exception, she was also a static presence in Anna's life; especially since she was raised from pool instructor to cardio teacher.  And since negative comments stick to one's mind like a fly to a fly trap that woman's voice drowned out the better, more positive comments directed Anna's way.</p><p>	Her mental wellbeing was hung by a frayed thread when Katherine was pushed down those stairs.  News of how severely she was being tortured already hit like a sledgehammer to what was left of Anna's walls.  When she learnt of the shove, the walls were demolished to the foundation.</p><p>	What if she had lost Katherine again?  People break their necks in such falls, after all.  It was happy chance alone that the girl was still giggling beside her as if nothing had happened.</p><p>	And still it was an event that was beyond Anna's control.  Once she dropped Katherine off at school and until the two met again later in the day she had no say in what happened to her, no way to protect her.</p><p>	But then again, that was a problem with everyone else.  If Lina was to have heart palpitations and refuse to take her pills during the work day, or if Anne did something stupid to herself again and refused to take care.  If Jane happened to have a secret diary where she continued to insult herself, or if I drank my weight in coffee while everyone slept.  Those possibilities tormented Anna.  She desired nothing more but to be able to foresee every outcome.  The prospect of coming back home to a vacant house loomed over her like a shadow that blocked out what little happiness she had.</p><p>	She could not protect everyone.  She could not save everyone.  Not from the events we experienced without her, or the pains we kept in the dark.  Not even from herself, if her outburst with Anne was anything to go by.</p><p>	It all came back to her.  The fear, the uncertainty of those days as she awaited Katherine's execution.  Every morning could be the beginning of a fateful date she would remember with grief every year and she would not know until it was too late.  She would drive Katherine to school and pray she was safe.  She would drop Anne off at the clinic and hope she took care.  She could text Jane and Lina throughout the morning to make sure they replied; but even that wasn't a guarantee that they were fine. </p><p>	Everything that could happen was out of her reach.  She was a spectator to whatever life threw our way.  She felt helpless.  She felt ugly.  She felt powerless.</p><p>	She felt out of control.</p><p>	It came down to that, really.  Lack of control over our safety.  Lack of control over losing us.  Lack of control over being alone again.  Over her appearance, over the things people said about her.</p><p>	Even over her own words.  The scene in which Katherine flinched away from her and Anne froze still as a statue before her was carved into her mind's eye.  All she needed do was lose a bit of concentration and daydream a little to see it play over and over and over, tormenting her with no end in sight.</p><p>	And so she came to a grim conclusion.  One that is not okay and is not safe or acceptable under any circumstances.  I need you to understand this, Mae.  What your mother did was unhealthy and dangerous.</p><p>	She figured if everything around her was uncertain, if she could not oversee the outcome, there was still one thing she could control: how much she ate.  Potentially it would also make her look better, right?</p><p>	I cannot bring myself to go into details and I do not believe you want to hear them, either.  Eating disorders manifest in truly grotesque ways.  I will censor myself as heavily as I can from now on all three our sakes: there are mental images you do not need, ones I wish to forget and others that Anna would be mortified if you learnt about.</p><p>	Three weeks.  That was how long she got away with starving herself without anyone noticing.  If she looked tired she'd had a hard day at the gym, or so she would say.  Difficulties adjusting to her new job as cardio instructor.  If she holed herself in her room she was planning classes.  If she wanted to have dinner while working who was to question her?  Lina did so as well when she was correcting exams, as did Jane when she was focusing on bettering her reading and did not wish to be interrupted.  All that mattered was that the plates came back empty.</p><p>	Except in Katherine's case, who really went the extra mile with Lina and stayed in her room with her “to study” if she had dinner in her room.  Curiously enough she only needed to study through dinner when Lina didn't join us in the kitchen.</p><p>	After they became close and until Katherine changed high schools, in case you're wondering, she really did put Lina through the wringer with exams.  “Why can't you wait until tomorrow?”  “Lina!!  I just want to know my grade!!  Pleaaaaase?”  “Patience is a virtue, Kitty.”  “One that I obviously lack!  Pretty please??”</p><p>	Either way Anna's behaviour was easy enough to disguise.  When she did join us so as to not raise suspcions she never acted strange.  She ate what was on her plate as if nothing were happening.  As if she were alright and wasn't being consumed by anxiety as she thought about calories and daily goals.</p><p>	“Goals.”  A term I use loosely in this context.</p><p>	As I said, I refuse to detail it more.  Eating disorders are not pretty.  I cannot begin to understand their glamourization in some online communities.  There is nothing “cute” about toying with one's health.</p><p>	I will leave it at this so you have a measuring stick: if Lina was playing with fire when she began fasting it is safe to say that your mother was juggling lit matches while doused in gasoline when she decided not eating was an acceptable idea.  That was how far she took it.</p><p>	It was unavoidable we would find out.  As easily as lies slid from her lips (an ability she does not have for other fallacies) the situation was bound to physically show.  She was a gym instructor, for crying out loud.  Out of all of us she was the one who exerted the most physical energy on the daily.  What was she expecting would happen?</p><p>	Anne was her emergency contact.  She was informed one morning after classes ended that Anna had collapsed half way through a session.  Lina was still working, wrapping everything up for the following year with other teachers.  Jane was in the middle of a workshop. </p><p>	That left Anne, Katherine and I.  Annie was still recovering, and though she was doing better she was in no fit state to care for anyone else or spend long hours at the hospital.  Kitty, as a minor, could not go alone nor would Anne and I allow it.  That left me as the obvious choice to watch over Anna, but after seeing what phantom pains did to both her and Jane in previous hospital visits I was terrified.  Not to mention what concern alone was doing to me.  What was wrong with Anna?  We did not know what had made her faint; for all we knew she could have something dreadfully wrong with her.</p><p>	If we informed Lina or Jane, though, they too would have to suffer the consequences.  Katherine was the only person available who wasn't going to go through pain and be reminded of her death.</p><p>	Anne tried convincing Kitty and I to let her go, that she could sleep on a chair without a problem, but that particular day she was a wreck.  She was nauseous, fatigued and plagued with brain fog.  After standing up a bit fast to prove how fine she was landed her on the floor even she had to admit she would make a dismal caretaker.</p><p>	Seeing that was the state of affairs, Anne made me promise I would call Jane or Lina.  While I was months away from being diagnosed with ASD it was obvious that I did not deal with stress well in the slightest.  I could shut down, be unable to speak and become overwhelmed very easily.  Having me go to the hospital could backfire in so many ways and we were all well aware.</p><p>	I gave myself a pep talk both as I got ready and as I took Katherine and myself there.  I was going to handle it with as much bravery as Anna and Jane had.  As Lina had when she was hospitalized.  I would not pass the burden and the pain onto my friends.  If they had done it, so could I.</p><p>	After Anne swore she would stay in bed and we left her her phone, computer, both chargers, some snacks and water in reach so she wouldn't need to get up, Katherine and I left.  The wait for the bus was silent and the ride doubly so.  I was trying to prepare for every possible scenario, trying to account for everything the nurse or doctor could say to me.  What I would be asked to do, if Anna would be awake or unconscious.  I needed a clear mental map of everything to feel confident in my ability to manage the situation.</p><p>	For someone who was unable to cry for her own misfortunes Katherine could cry rivers for those of others.  Especially Anna's.  Your auntie sat next to me, silent tears streaming down her face.  I remember how firmly she was gripping the hem of her shirt.  Her knuckles were white with strain.</p><p>	I asked her, after a small internal debate, if she would like to hold my hand.  While there is nothing childish about wanting comfort I feared she would interpret it in an infantilizing manner and be cross at me, but I deemed it worth the attempt regardless.</p><p>	The outcome I could not have foreseen was her asking if she could hug me instead.  My reaction must have been strange from an outsider's perspective because she apologized, considering it “a stupid thing to ask.”  I pulled her close mostly on instinct, I think.  She was not stupid for needing someone to fall back on.  Asking for consent was not stupid.  And since spoken words fail me I guess demonstrating how not stupid the request was was the only way I could let her know; so I went ahead and did it.</p><p>	That was the first time I held your auntie.  The same girl I had harassed leant into me, wrapped her arms around me and sighed into my shoulder.  I felt how warm she was, how soft.  I felt her despair in how tightly she grasped me, but also her trust.  She was not one for physical contact, initially.  It was a feeling I loved, one I did not want to end.  For some reason she was being vulnerable with me.  That was precious.</p><p>	She was so precious.</p><p>	She held onto my hand for the rest of the ride.  With anxious strength, yet making sure not to hurt me.  It was equal parts soft and sensitive: I wasn't alone.  She would not let me deal with everything by myself.  And still she needed a bit of support.</p><p>	The moment I stepped foot into that hospital something went terribly wrong.  The phantom pains were bad, but I had the nagging suspicion they were but the prelude of what was to come.  Unless of course I managed to successfully distract myself as Anna had when she'd accompanied Lina, but that seemed unlikely.  And still the cramps alone were not the hardest bit to deal with.</p><p>	The worst part was, well, everything.  People were too loud.  The lights were too bright.  The scent too sharp.  It was the sensory equivalent of being covered head to toe in pins and needles.  Everything became uncomfortable: Katherine's hand, the brush of my clothes against my skin.  I wanted to curl up in a dark corner and wait the nauseating feeling out.</p><p>	But I wouldn't allow myself to.  I needed to know what was wrong with Anna.  I could not leave Katherine alone.  I refused to pass the burden onto Lina or Jane.  </p><p>	I assumed they had all felt sensory overload in the hospital.  I didn't know it was something exclusive to me.  As such I thought they were all much stronger, much more capable than me.</p><p>	Your auntie saw, though.  As much as I tried to keep a neutral exterior my discomfort shows in many ways.  After being instructed to go to the waiting room Katherine texted Lina and Jane.  Who, in turn, had already been alerted by Anne since she did not trust me to call them.  Lina was not allowed to leave early for someone who wasn't direct family and Jane, as her own boss, ended the workshop she was leading practically at its start claiming that she had a family emergency.</p><p>	That was the first time any of us referred to the rest as family.  Even if it was an excuse to prevent her clients from getting cross at her it feels special.  She could have made up an imaginary family member, like a sick mother; but she referred to Anna herself as family instead.</p><p>	It may have been her subconscious tripping her up or me looking too deeply into a while lie to go the hospital.  I will let you decide.</p><p>	A lot of the stress I was feeling that day could have been mitigated with headphones, a stim toy and some of the coping mechanisms I would discuss with my therapist later on.  Without said resources a situation that would have already been inherently harder for me than for the others became impossible.  A few minutes after walking in Katherine pointed out I was paling.  Her voice, quiet as it was, was somehow grating.  The lights were scorching my eyes.</p><p>	In short, I needed out.  The worry was making the pains worse, I was doubling over.  This isn't my fondest memory, Mae.  Especially because until I got diagnosed with ASD it made me feel frail compared to the others.  I was ashamed for far too long about having a different set of strengths and weaknesses.  </p><p>	Allow me to skip to the part where one suggestion from your auntie later I bolted out of the building.  I found an isolated bench on the hospital grounds and waited it out there.  As much as I was forcing myself to “get over it” that line of thought only made it worse.  I was straining myself by thinking that I had left Katherine alone.  While she was more than capable of fending off for herself she was still a child.  What if someone harassed her or made her uncomfortable?  What if someone walking by didn't see her cast and injured her further?</p><p>	I felt like a failure, quite honestly.  How was I to watch over Anna if I couldn't even make sure Katherine was safe for ten minutes straight?</p><p>	Looking back on it the fact that I made it without assistance or guildelines to the hospital in the first place was a feat on its own.  Buses are noisy and it's not like I wasn't anxious on the bus.  I still managed practically on my own.</p><p>	Jane was by my side in a matter of minutes.  It felt like hours, for sure, but from the timeline we stitched together later it couldn't have been much longer after Kitty and I arrived.  By the time Jane appeared I was so uncomfortable my own tears against my skin felt wrong.  Jane didn't really know what to do, she was at a loss.  We had not been close for long; nothing that she had seen from me could have prepared her for that.  But she took a deep breath to ease her nerves and sat with me, speaking in a soft voice until I felt better.  That in and of itself was grounding.</p><p>	That she still had a bag with several balls of yarn with her, since she hadn't wasted time going home, also helped.  The texture of yarn is incredibly soothing.  I know Anne is averse to it for the most part except some really soft ones; but I find it to be the most calming fabric.</p><p>	I don't believe I asked Jane for permission, really.  The memories are hazy but I recall reaching my hand towards one of the balls that were poking out and stroking it.  I do not remember what about it drew me in, but coupled with Janey it turned out to be what I needed.</p><p>	My ability to speak failed me, but Jane seemed to understand that I wasn't doing it to be difficult.  She told me in the warmest way possible that she would go inside, retrieve Katherine and take us both back home.  Then she would come back and stay with Anna until Lina arrived.  Jane and her would take turns.</p><p>	I believe I protested quite a lot (or attempted to more likely).  I wasn't even sure why Jane was there.  But she convinced me under the pretext that she did not trust Anne not to call an Uber and come to the hospital herself while in recovery.  That and that Katherine needn't see Anna sick.  Jane thought it a bad idea that I had agreed to bring her with me in the first place.  But seeing as she knew how headstrong our little one was she did not admonish me, either.</p><p>	Still feeling miserable and like I had failed at something I agreed to watch over Annie at least, and keep Katherine in the house.  Those tasks seemed more manageable.</p><p>	You know how every hospital visit thus far had left whoever was in the waiting room there for around an hour before being given any information?  Of course, the day Katherine was there by herself happened to be the day a nurse came out looking for Anna's family seconds after I left.</p><p>	Katherine always looked younger than she was.  She was petite, fragile in appearance.  Which is the nice way of saying she looked twelve at the time.  The nurse did not give her any substantial information, waiting instead for an adult.</p><p>	Your auntie went with it.  She was determined to find out what was wrong with Anna one way or another, so she said the person she had come with was in the bathroom.  The nurse was busy, as medical personnel is often overworked, and told Katherine to inform the supposed adult in the bathroom that she would return shortly.  She also instructed Katherine to stay put, to which she agreed.</p><p>	Needless to say, the moment the nurse turned a corner Katherine went into Anna's room by herself.  Since most adults would not take her seriously when she stated her intentions clearly she learnt to play a part to get her way when necessary.</p><p>	Your mother was in a room waiting for some test results to determine why she had lost consciousness.  She was not awake yet, still caught in the hazy aftermath of a fainting spell.  For Katherine seeing Anna in such a vulnerable state was painful.  Anna was everything to her.  Her best friend, her family, the person who took care of her...  She could not fathom the idea of anything bad happening to her.</p><p>	Katherine was discovered soon, though.  The nurse did say she would return.  At first she chided Kitty, asking what relationship she had with Anna and why she was alone in a hospital.  </p><p>	“I really, really wanted to say 'She's my mother', but I thought it wasn't something Anna would like and I didn't want to upset her.  So I just said she was my legal guardian.”</p><p>	That still managed to soften the nurse a little.  She must have realized how afraid Kitty was for Anna or something similar.  Either way, instead of escorting Katherine out she sat with her for a while and asked what other adult could be called, since she could not be alone in the hospital.  When your auntie said Jane was already on her way and wouldn't take much longer the nurse decided it wouldn't hurt to let Kitty wait with Anna, seeing how scared she was.</p><p>	A nice and understanding nurse, right?  Indeed, my girl.  Do you remember nurse Callaghan from when you went to visit auntie Kitty at the hospital after her shoulder surgery?  Perhaps you do not, but you and Eddie really liked her.  She was one of the nurses who would often take care of Katherine in her multiple hospitalizations once the more dire symptoms of hEDS started showing up.  That was when they met.</p><p>	Seeing as Amy (that's the nurse's name, I don't believe her first name has ever popped up in conversation with you) happened to be the world's kindest medical professional, even if that occasionally meant skipping some protocol (like allowing us to smuggle your teddy Mr. Snuggles to auntie Kitty's room after visiting hours so she knew you were worried about her), against her better judgement she told Katherine what had happened to Anna.  </p><p>	“She looked too worried!!  She was crying!!” she explained to Anna at some point later, after Katherine's constant medical tests got her well acquainted with plenty hospital staff.  “She doesn't play fair with those puppy dog eyes.  Plus, she was technically a family member of yours; just a young one!  Can you really blame me?  I wanted her to know you weren't going to die on her.”</p><p>	Though all test results hadn't come back yet it appeared it was a matter of malnourishment.  The man who called the ambulance, a cardio instructor from another class, reported he hadn't seen Anna join her co-workers at the cafeteria for weeks.  She always had an excuse of sorts.  That, coupled with every test conducted on her to that point coming back fine made everything point to an eating disorder.  Or the beginning of one.</p><p>	Nurse Callaghan couldn't keep Katherine company much longer, though, so after reassuring Anna would most likely be alright her she left.  She made Kitty promise Jane was indeed coming.  If Amy got caught allowing a minor to watch over a patient without adult supervision she would get in a lot of trouble.  It was a blind trust test on her part.  She was always so nice to Kitty, even when they didn't know each other.</p><p>	Your auntie felt miserable.  She had always been so careful with Lina, making sure she ate properly.  How hadn't she done the same for Anna?  How had something much more severe than what Lina went through gone undetected to her?  The signs were the same: eating alone, excusing tiredness with work, spending more time by herself...</p><p>	But as much as hatred for her perceived failure and ineptitude were weighing Katherine down, threatening to pull her under the surface and drown her, there was something much heavier crushing her.  She needed to see Anna wake up.  She needed to be certain she would, that there was potential for her to recover.</p><p>	Or, in less words: that it wasn't Anne repeat scenario.  That it wasn't something that seemed to be a case of malnourishment but was actually a terminal illness.</p><p>	So as Kitty waited for Jane she held Anna's hand and talked to her through a current of tears.  The other bed in the room was empty, so she did not need to worry about keeping her voice down.</p><p>	When Jane arrived she didn't knock, not expecting Katherine to be inside.  She was pulling her phone out to call her and locate her when she heard Kitty.  The room was L-shaped, with a wardrobe in the corner between the entrance and the beds.  Katherine didn't notice the door opening.</p><p>	“I knew I wasn't supposed to see that.  It was a private moment between Kitty and Anna but...  I couldn't stop looking.”</p><p>	I think if Jane hadn't accidentally intruded on them we would never have known what happened.  For the record, Janey didn't tell us about this happily just because.  She would have never fanned people's private matters around.  The specific context in which the following scene became public knowledge will be relevant in a while.</p><p>	There was something chilling, haunting, about hearing Katherine singing “You Are My Sunshine” to a sleeping Anna through choked sobs; about the way her voice cracked during “please don't take my sunshine away”, becoming a pained whisper.  It was that tragically mesmerizing scene that kept Jane from interfering yet rooted to the spot.  It was a moment that should not be disturbed, an instant in which Katherine was being uncensored in her vulnerability and her love for Anna.  A rare instance indeed.  Katherine held her emotions in a tight fist even when helping others.</p><p>	However, that intimacy which drew Jane in prevented her from leaving, since your mother stirred almost immediately after she walked in.  Jane disliked the idea of eavesdropping, feeling as if having overheard Katherine in a vulnerable state was bad enough.  Despite that Jane feared that if she made her presence known in any manner and interrupted, whichever words your mother and Katherine needed to exchange would go unsaid.  That if she stopped the emotional inertia whatever it was they needed to speak and hear would wilt in their throats and never see the light of day.  Even opening the door to leave, without Katherine's voice drowning out the sound, was too high a risk.  As such Jane stayed under the self-imposed condition to never share what she heard.</p><p>	Given that I am telling you this, that didn't quite go as planned.  However I must insist there was a good reason for it.</p><p>	Anna woke up before Katherine had the chance to begin the next verse.  When she realized who was holding her hand your mother covered her face.  In shame, she admitted later.  She felt weak and pathetic at the time; the last person she wanted pitying her (what she assumed our reaction would be) was Katherine.  “Why are you here?  I didn't want you to see me, not like this.”</p><p>	That sentence sparked rage in Katherine.  “'Like this'?  I don't think you wanted me to see you at all.  Ever again.”</p><p>	“Kit, what--?”</p><p>	“Starving yourself, Anna?  Really?”  A string of similar questions, equally aggressive, left her lips like they'd been building up in her mouth and she could no longer hold them back.  Out of all the times Katherine lost her nerves leading up to her inevitable breakdown that one was by far the worst.</p><p>	It wasn't until Anna asked why she was so irate that your auntie snapped.  </p><p>	“This is exactly what I've been trying to protect Catalina from for months” she said accusingly, trembling.  “You could have died Anna, it's really dangerous!  Is that what you wanted?”</p><p>	And then, added in a sharp whisper, as if the words sliced the inside of her mouth:  “Did you really want to die?  Were you going to leave me?”</p><p>	While making the connection between an eating disorder and considering one's own death may be a bit of a stretch, we would soon find out why Katherine's mind was so quick to link the two.  However that may be, the crux of the problem was clear: she was not angry; she was terrified of losing Anna.  Fear and rage often manifest in a very similar fashion.</p><p>	In turn that prompted Anna to come undone herself.  She did not want to leave anyone, it was the prospect of being alone that frightened her.  She admitted she had done an atrocious job of coping, that she should have done better.  But that never, not once, had the idea of leaving any of us, let alone Katherine, crossed her mind.</p><p>	“If that's what's scaring you I promise I will always be with you no matter the consequences.  Anything that happens you'll always have me.  There's nobody that's going to take me away from you this time.  I love you Anna.  And I need you.”</p><p>	Your auntie did not frequently admit to needing anyone.  If anything, the conflict between her desire to trust us and her inability to was the linchpin of the chaos that would soon ensue.  But, as much as this feels redundant, more about her in a moment.</p><p>	As their heart to heart progressed it was obvious both of them had a lot of feelings to unpack.  However, after five minutes Jane could not take it anymore.  On the one hand she was worried about me outside, and on the other she felt terrible about hearing all these statements that were obviously not for third parties' ears.  She may have been no expert but she felt like they had already gotten the important parts out of their systems, so she walked in.</p><p>	When she did, Katherine and Anna both stiffened.  Jane had been right to assume she would have killed the moment if she'd interfered earlier.</p><p>	Anna was beyond uncomfortable at being seen ill, of needing someone to stay with her.  After Jane informed her that she and Lina would take turns after she left Katherine and I with Anne your mother objected to no end.  She would be fine, she was already feeling better, etc.  Before leaving Katherine gave her a big hug that Anna would later define as “desperate.”  Fair enough a response, I think, after all the fear she'd gone through.</p><p>	When Jane came for me with a still sniffling Kitty in tow I felt even worse.  Anna would have to be alone for a while because I was incapable of dealing with what she had for Lina and Anne.  She must think me to be so weak.  I could not muster a word on the ride back home.  We took a cab, since none of us could drive yet.  Katherine, as the smallest one, was in the middle.  While she usually despised being trapped she was too shaken to care.  Jane was trying to make small talk, to be uplifting, but she got no response from either of us.  None of her words, vibrant as they were, had the effect on me that Katherine holding my hand as I had for her on the bus did.  Partly because her warm gesture was grounding, partly because she was wearing a spinner ring she had no problem with me twisting about.</p><p>	It was a good thing that we returned.  Anne was, indeed, getting dressed to get an Uber when we arrived.  She was worried sick about Anna.  And me, and her cousins.  And how Lina would feel in the hospital.  It was quite, in her words, “a dumpster fire of a situation.”</p><p>	I knew I should be watching over the cousins after Jane returned to the hospital.  However Katherine promised me she would keep Anne on the couch and Anne in turn promised she would keep Kitty too busy to be sad.  So basically they both saw through my intended unfazed, fine exterior and wanted to lift me of my responsibilities.</p><p>	Not that it made me feel any better, really.  If anything it was worse.</p><p>	Despite that, their taking care of each other gave me time to write.  I needed to sort my thoughts and feelings out and in the end I typed until my fingers ached.  Getting the words out of my head and onto the screen was the emotional equivalent of an ear unclogging after a long day of annoying muffled sounds.  It felt like I could breathe again.</p><p>	I do not remember being conscious of the fact it was a letter to Anna until I was finished.  An apology for having failed at everything she would not have failed at: letting Katherine see her, walking out of the hospital, leaving her alone until Jane returned and the other faults I attributed to myself.</p><p>	After reading it several times it felt right to give it to her.  We were barely starting to be on talking terms, I did not want that endangered by her perceiving me as a coward.  A person who wasn't just incapable of dealing with the strain she and the others had, but also someone who could not face her own weaknesses.  If she had to grow distant from me I would much rather it be because she thought me to be pathetic and not because she believed me to be unwilling to confront my flaws.</p><p>	Of course your mother would never think that of me and if anything my overblown description of my symptoms at the hospital made her think two possible things: 1) I had had a much worse death than she, Jane and Lina had combined; or 2) what had made me short circuit had not been related to phantom pains at all.  It was the start of her research that lead her to ASD.  And since it was after a conversation with your mother that I decided to set up an appointment with a psychologist and eventually got diagnosed I believe, retrospectively, that letter did me much more good than I could have anticipated.</p><p>	Since I was feeling better, although still not talkative, I took care of dinner that night.  By which I mean yes, I ordered pizza.  What Lina and Jane didn't know could not hurt anyone.  Annie and Kitty also knew better than to mention that, so it was our secret dinner.  While I was still finding it hard to talk both of them were amazing at making me feel like there was nothing wrong with me.  They tailored their conversation to manage to include me while keeping the comments that required my input at simple 'yes' and 'no' questions I could reply to with gestures.</p><p>	It felt nice to not be alienated, judged, or forced to interact.  Apparently Katherine and Anne had been working on dealing with Anne's own non-verbal episodes and they guessed something similar was happening to me.</p><p>	They slept together that night, one of their first sleepovers, but not before making sure I was fine.  That and that I intended on actually sleeping and not forcing myself to stay awake until dawn after the exhausting day.  Although I said I would the coffee machine casually disappeared that night, only to magically reappear on the counter in the morning.</p><p>	“Fun part was it was Kit who remembered it was in my room.  I think if she hadn't mentioned it the thing would've appeared under a bunch of laundry on my desk weeks later or something.”</p><p>	While we had a relatively peaceful night, with both Katherine and I waking up every so often to ask Jane and Lina for updates on both them and Anna, the dark hours were not as eventless in the hospital.  Jane and Lina always replied with positive, reassuring answers to our concerned questions, but things were not going as smoothly as they showed.</p><p>	Their phantom pains were a bigger problem than they had anticipated.  Lina had only been to a hospital once before, and since she had been on anxiolytics she hadn't been able to experience their full extent.  She thought the ones she had at home and school when she got palpitations were as bad as they would get, but it wasn't the case.</p><p>	Which is comprehensible.  There is something about hospitals, an aura of death I guess, that can pull out phantom pains as if our death days came early.  For Katherine and Anne it happens at cemeteries.</p><p>	We tend to avoid any place that may have some connection to the afterlife.</p><p>	As for Jane, she had already experienced them with Anne's sepsis, but the anxiety of knowing what she was getting herself into made them even worse than that first time.  She couldn't even hold dinner in her stomach from how violent the agony was.</p><p>	While both of them suffered their dying aches they had to do their best to keep a neutral front for Anna, but it just was not working.  She was in pain as well, the cramps began when Katherine left.  Without the intense emotional effort of consoling her the hospital morphed for the third time in the span of six months into Anna's hollow mausoleum of Richmond.  That she was laying down was not helping, either.</p><p>	Jane and Lina rotated often, letting the cool air outside purge them of the feeling they were rotting from the inside out.  Your mother got no such respite, though.  She knew she should try distracting herself as she had that first night with Lina, but she was unable to.  Her mind was whirring too fast with a myriad of negative thoughts: what she had done to herself, how she was putting Lina and Jane through hell, how she'd made everyone worry about her, how the last thing we needed was having two people to look out for during meals, how she wanted to stop starving herself, how a dark voice insisted she shouldn't...  And since anxiety worsens phantom pains eventually she too was put on anxiolytics.</p><p>	The hospital staff deemed it normal that, after being discovered having an eating disorder, patients would get anxious.  Lina and Jane knew better, but could not have explained it and hoped to be believed if they tried.</p><p>	The hours droned on slowly, very slowly.  Lina and Jane repeatedly walked into what felt like death's putrid breath to make sure Anna would not be alone if she stirred or needed anything.  Since they were taking turns they didn't have much time to speak.  However they made use of their alone time as wisely as they could: they called and texted each other through the night.  A lifeline anchoring them to this century, to this life.  They were mostly panic-texting each other, but somehow they wove a bonding experience out of it.  In a raging ocean of death and anguish they were each other's light house.  Perhaps it only makes sense that they grew closer over that.</p><p>	It was still all too tempting for both of them to leave Anna alone just for five minutes and take a breather together.  Surely nothing would happen in such a short amount of time, but Lina refused.</p><p>	“Anna is my friend.  She'd stayed with me when we barely knew each other.  I couldn't just let her wake up to a dark room by herself feeling rejected and miserable in good conscience, now could I?”</p><p>	And yet your mother slept so deeply after she was given the pills that it seemed like the night would go on quietly until the inky sky was washed away by sunlight.  Close to the break of dawn she did wake up though.  It was Jane who was with her.  When Anna apologized over and over for things she could name and others she could not all Jane could do was hold her hand and wipe her tears.  She told your mother how everything would be better.  It felt like the end of the world, but in time she would feel alright.</p><p>	Comforting people was one of Janey's strengths, but she didn't always know what to say.  As soothing and calming as she was it wasn't until Lina walked into the room that your mother really did manage to see some glimmer of hope of the somber pit that her mind had become.</p><p>	Lina and her spoke until a nurse came in with Anna's breakfast.  Lina promised her it did improve, but in a way that spoke to Anna.  A way that I guess only people who share an unhealthy coping mechanism can discuss.  Lina promised she would hold Anna's hand and guide her all the way to that feeble shimmer of hope.  With every step it would become brighter, more tangible and achievable.  She would not let Anna suffer alone, just like Anna had stayed beside her and kept her company since March.  </p><p>	Anna was Lina's very first friend in this life, the first person who saw good in her, and their stories from our past life are quite similar.  They have always shared a very special bond, unique in their hearts.  Every bond is, don't get me wrong, but there has always been a thread connecting Lina and your mother.  If we speak about the red string of fate for romantic partners their connection can be dubbed the yellow string of friendship.  An invisible link between them, a sixth sense for when they are suffering.  That day Lina let Anna know, in no uncertain terms as direct and to the point as only Lina can be, that she was loved and needed.  She had people to fall back on, and she most definitely had Lina to catch her if she stumbled.</p><p>	Yes.  Auntie Lina is a closet softie.  Although we are long past the point of it being a secret.</p><p>	Thankfully Anna hadn't done anything too bad to herself.  From a psychological standpoint yes, obviously, she had been very self-destructive.  But on a physical level she was expected to make a full recovery with help of a strict diet, guidance from a nutritionist and therapy.  Though always reluctant to show weakness and accept she needs help, your mother conceded.  It was plain to see she was not skilled at finding healthy ways of dealing with her fears and emotions on her own.  It was a point she could not argue.</p><p>	Lina had to leave early, having a long and tiring day ahead of herself.  Jane was the one who accompanied Anna back home, since she would not be hospitalized unless she failed to recover.</p><p>	She did not.  Your mother is so exceptional at everything she even aced recovery.</p><p>	Back at home she was greeted by Katherine and Anne.  Jane did not want to close shop so often (as she had already taken a day off for Anne's death day and cut another short for Anna) so she made herself some coffee before heading to her shop.</p><p>	I was ashamed to face Anna, Mae.  She would be emotional, I figured she wouldn't want to see me of all people.  And yet I had a letter to give her, so with little enthusiasm I made my way downstairs.</p><p>	She was between Annie and Katherine on the couch, watching a movie with them.  Both cousins, due to sepsis recovery and exhaustion respectively, were asleep on her.  I believe I just pushed the letter onto her lap and muttered something about hoping she felt better before retreating to my room.  Her potential reaction was too straining.</p><p>	A letter that I thought to be pathetic and self-pitying rather than helpful your mother would later tell me was, coupled with Lina's support, a key motivator in her recovery.  Whenever relapse crept at the corners of her mind she read it to remind herself there were people who cared about her.  Even if she wasn't perfect, even if she could not keep us all safe.  We were afraid for her safety, we cared about her, she was loved.</p><p>	“You thought it was a stupid thing to write?  Cath please, everyone has different ways of helping.  Yours was just as effective as Lina's and the rest's.”</p><p>	That she would tell me in the months to come.  That day at lunch, when we all met at the kitchen table, Anna limited her comment on my letter to something along the lines of: “Hey, you weren't useless.  You were watching Kit and Anne.  There's enough of us to take care of everyone, don't you think?  You did great.”</p><p>	Whichever seed began to grow after Anne's death day, when we all started to accept that we cared for one another, started to bloom there.  For me, at least.  Anna said “us”.  I was clearly a part of that “everyone”, even to her.  She was the person I was the least close to out of the bunch, but still to her I was part of her world.</p><p>	It brought me ease in that suffocating situation.  I was not mocked or criticized.  I was tending to other important matters.  Even if I felt feeble compared to the others it was obvious they did not see me as such.  I was an equal in their eyes.  It may seem pointless now, but before my diagnosis I blamed myself for all my hardships and made myself miserable.  At the time it meant the world.</p><p>	It wasn't easy for your mother to get better; I just said she did not fail and have to restart.  Even these days she borders on relapsing.  It has only happened twice these years, though: around February 13th two years ago, when auntie Kitty died; and October 24th last year, when Janey left us too.</p><p>	Some times your would want to eat alone.  Going out to restaurants with her was always a toss of a coin.  Some times it would be fine, others she would be unable to order anything other than a glass of water in public.  I would hazard to say a lot of our friendship came from us staying behind when the others went out for lunch: too noisy for me, too stressful for her.</p><p>	Back then I loved staying in and cooking with her.  Or, watching her cook.  Her aversions and conflicts with food seem to be confined to seeing it on a plate and being expected to consume it.  The process of preparing it is something she enjoys.  I think we both found a safe space alone in the kitchen: she liked listening to me ramble about whichever subject had my interest and I could watch her do what she enjoyed for hours.  </p><p>	I would give almost everything to go back.</p><p>	Anna's recovery was much harder than Lina's both for her and us.  For her because she struggled more with confronting food.  For us because it required a lot of trust: as I said, eating in public, even with us in the kitchen, could be a struggle for her.  Katherine would smile when Anna said she'd rather be alone, but barely pick at her food later riddled with concern for Anna.  Lina, the most understanding of us in this area, tried to reassure everyone that Anna just needed her space and was probably fine, while internally her heart raced.</p><p>	Even before we became close every time Anna decided to eat alone I could not stop myself from wondering if she would cave in again.  Until she joined us for the next meal soon the worry gnawed away at me.</p><p>	Regarding her body, that took time and effort as well.  Compliments at first made her uncomfortable, we had to be very careful and selective about our words.  I believe she began to accept them a few months after this incident, when she and auntie Anne began dating.</p><p>	Oh, yes.  Your auntie was not always aware that she is aromantic.  For a brief two weeks she and Anna were in a relationship, but that is a story for later.</p><p>	Regarding what I am talking about, Anne made your mother feel much more comfortable about her body.  How she did we have never been told, but she was a key part in Anna regaining her confidence.</p><p>	Like everything that has come before, what happened to Anna was a terrible situation I wish had never happened.  There is nothing “positive”, “necessary” or “good” about trauma and trauma responses, my girl.  A lot of people seem to romanticize them, but it is revolting.</p><p>	However we are still a result of the things that have happened to us and how we responded to them.  I believe Anna did a good job of taking care of herself from that point forwards, hardships and all.  She learnt to let go of responsibilities that were not her own, to take things calmly instead of agonizing over being unable to control the outcome.  She finally saw herself as beautiful as she is.  Little by little, after receiving nothing but an outpour of support, she began relying on us like we did on her.</p><p>	I just wish she could have learnt all that without having to hurt herself first.  I would do anything to take that pain away from her, to strip those painful memories from her.  I suppose being a former queen who married Henry deprives one of the prospect of a calm and peaceful second life.  Whichever stains he left in our minds continued clouding and distorting our vision centuries apart from him.</p><p>	In terms of stained minds though I am certain the one whose judgement was harmed the most was Katherine.  If only for her young age.  While the rest of us, with time and therapy, slowly managed to move forwards, Katherine's trauma was more like quicksand.  The more she struggled against it the deeper she sank.</p><p>	Up until now, Mae, every story has had a relatively positive conclusion.  Auntie Anne's and your mother's are perhaps the worse in terms of what happened, but we can safely call them close calls.  Events that could have come to a terrible finale but in the end did not.  Warning signs, if you will.</p><p>	A little heads up: the following tale will not end in a tense “that was close, I am so glad we found out and sorted it out before it got worse.”  Auntie Katherine sank under the proverbial quicksand and drowned in it.  The “warning signs” we all missed, and by the time we realized she was far too gone.</p><p>	What she did to herself she took to its full extent.  The fact that she survived until two years ago was based on fortune alone and not any of us seeing the red flags before it was too late.  It will hurt, Mae.  I have seriously considered censoring this part, but I trust Mary will not give this to you until you are old enough.  Still, if you find it too troubling, I will write a brief, undetailed summary at the end.  It will be in bold letters so you can find it easily.</p><p>	So...</p><p>	...Are you ready?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>There!  Done.  I hope it doesn't feel rushed, i know i wrote it faster than the others.  But it was cathartic for reasons and as such i'm labeling it as self-care.  Next chapter is Katherine's at last.  Enough foreshadowing on that front.  It will be a two parter, i'll let you know in advance that i seriously doubt it'll be finished in one chapter.  </p><p>As usual any interactions and constructive criticism are welcome.  Thank you for your time.  Take care and stay safe, everyone~!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The Least Relevant Katherine (Part 1)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello~!!  Thanks everyone for interacting with this story, it really means a lot ^^</p><p>I believe this may be the heaviest chapter to date (it's def the longest one, but i couldn't find a satisfying place to cut it off at nor did i want it to be a three parter -btw it's 19000+ words so get comfortable and take breaks to avoid eye strain that i def didn't get from proofreading this /s-).  However since it's only part 1 of Katherine's arc and the (arguably) worse stuff is yet to come there's no summarized censored version at the end, i'm saving that for next chapter.  However, if after reading the CW list or the chapter itself someone wants to know what happens let me know in the comments and i'll summarize this chapter too in the end notes.  Don't be shy to ask, it's far from a problem i just want everyone to be comfortable.</p><p>This chapter made me quite anxious to write.  I hope i got everything across right.  Most things i wrote about are from personal experience (obviously not the part of reincarnation and past lives not will i get specific about which parts are and which aren't) but still i fear that i either worded it wrong or something and it comes across the wrong way.  I hope not.  As usual constructive criticism is appreciated and welcome.</p><p>Also on an unrelated note this is where Cathy and Anna start catching feelings so ^^</p><p>So without further ado onto the CW list (keep in mind that as usual nothing is overly descriptive.  I'm against trauma porn and glorifying people's traumatic experiences):</p><p>-Neglectful family<br/>-Grooming of a minor (non descript)<br/>-Manipulation and gaslighting (mentioned)<br/>-Victim of sexual abuse blamed for it and considering herself guilty<br/>-Mind break (undescribed)<br/>-Vitcim blaming<br/>-Self hatred<br/>-Victim excusing abusers (due to mind break)<br/>-Feeling that one needs to be punished<br/>-Self punishment<br/>-Self destructive behaviour<br/>-Victim being forced to remain silent <br/>-Mentioned execution (beheading, nothing graphic)<br/>-Blackmailing<br/>-Choosing one's own death over living with an abuser (Katherine and Dereham, briefly mentioned)<br/>-Lady Rochford (George Boleyn's execution, Anne's, and Jane Parker's own -as usual, all non descript-)<br/>-Implied incest (the rumors between George and Anne; not real incest -mentioned-)<br/>-The Lizzie and Thomas Seymour incident (mentioned)<br/>-Unknown mental illness and murder of a mentally ill person (Lady Rochford's execution)<br/>-Feeling guilty for someone's murder (Katherine and Lady Rochford)<br/>-Bessie Blount and Henry (mentioned in passing)<br/>-Mentioned segmented corpses (Dereham and Culpeper; non descript, so non descript unless you know what i'm talking about it's really vague)<br/>-Unkind terms regarding sexually active women (mostly Katherine describing herself inaccurately)<br/>-Feeling one is forgettable and replaceable and others would be better off without her<br/>-Nightmares and night terrors (mentioned and not described)<br/>-Inability to express feelings or trust others due to trauma<br/>-Bullying (just a mention of what happened in chapter 7)<br/>-Considering running away from home<br/>-Self harm (non descript, but scars are mentioned so it's very marginally up to interpretation -still, the action itself is never described or shown in any way-)<br/>-Mentioned ED recovery as well as sepsis recovery (nothing other chapters haven't done already rlly)<br/>-Disorganized sleeping and mentioned caffeine addiction<br/>-Anna's death day mentioned (but not shown)<br/>-People being rather ignorant and rude about the Queens and how history has remembered them<br/>-Body shaming (as in someone insults Anna's looks from her past life in one mention and then she feels bad about it)<br/>-Feeling guilty of things that aren't one's fault due to trauma<br/>-Head injury due to fall (not down stairs though)<br/>-Mention of blood (due to said injury, quick mention)<br/>-Panic attack<br/>-Fainting with eyes open due to head injury<br/>-Mild concussion (due to head injury)<br/>-Concussive symptoms (light and sound sensitivity, migraines, confusion)<br/>-Knee subluxation (hEDS symptom implied, just a mentioned swollen knee)<br/>-ASD character being overwhelmed, mentioned sensory overload and non-verbal episode (nothing i haven't written about in previous chapters)<br/>-Victim of abuse feeling like she deserved it<br/>-Victim of abuse dehumanizing herself<br/>-Mild concussion recovery<br/>-Miscarriages and grieving dead children <br/>-Brief mention of Mary of Aragon in her first life<br/>-Mother being conflicted about what her daughter did<br/>-Anne's execution (mentioned, not graphic)<br/>-So much PTSD and despair<br/>-Pulling one's own hair during a stressful situation<br/>-Loopiness from painkillers<br/>-Conflicting feelings towards loved ones<br/>-CAT scan (mentioned)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For every story thus far, for each segment of our lives, I haven't found many issues starting.  But for Katherine...  I struggle to find the words, Mae.  What constiutes too much information?  What makes too little?  I want you to understand everything, I need you to.  This is the last thing I have for you, I need it to be perfect.  You deserve to understand, you have the right to know how we have gotten to this point.</p><p>	And still your auntie stumps me.  I will try to make this attempt my last, I don't really have much time left.</p><p>	Well, “auntie”.  Technically speaking she was your step sister.  As to why she refused to refer to you as such, more on that after some context.  To dispel any doubts from your mind Katherine struggled quite a lot with familial bonds.  She not once called me anything other than my name even after discussing that she was comfortable with me referring to her as my step daughter.  And Anna, even after the adoption, got called “mother” I believe a total of three times in the seven years Katherine lived with us.</p><p>	Everyone's first life was marked by abuse, manipulation and coercion.  I am certain you know by now.  I think however there were two main differences between the rest of us and your auntie.  For one, our age.  The mind of a child does not process traumatic situations in the same way that of an adult does.  I am certain if Katherine had been allowed to grow up she would have had time to deal with those feelings in a different way.  The pain would not have gone away (it did not for any of us, after all), but she would have had time for those wounds to grow hardened scar tissue.  Instead she was murdered long before she had the time and energy to process her own emotions.  We all woke up wounded.  But in this analogy Katherine woke up with fresh, still bleeding, open wounds.</p><p>	That, again, did not have time to heal since almost immediately after waking up, she got hurt more.  </p><p>	Secondly every single one of us knew some form of love and happiness in our previous life.  For Lina, Anne and Jane it was their children, among other family members and friends they could have loved and had a normal, healthy relationship with.  You would have been for me as well had I gotten to meet you, my girl.  Instead for me it was my family, my step children and my career.  Anna didn't have a lot but she did have fond memories of growing up in Germany and her life there.</p><p>	For your auntie Katherine the story went differently: her mother died shortly after she was born and her father was neglectful.  She had at least seven other siblings but from what we've gathered and what little history remembers about her she wasn't particularly close to any of them.  That need to be loved and taken care of was not met.  Katherine was born to a family who did not deserve her.</p><p>	Instead she looked for love in other places, latching desperately onto anyone who gave her as much as scraps of affection.  If you know anything from her you know where this is headed, and if you do not I refuse to go into detail.  Both for Katherine's sake and your own.</p><p>	In short the people who promised her love took advantage of her, manipulated her and gaslit her.  She was blamed and insulted for her abuse as if she had done something bad, as if there were something inherently wrong with her.  She always believed herself to be evil, rotten to the core.</p><p>	A tactic abusers use, especially with younger, vulnerable victims, is making them feel mature and special.  Getting them addicted to flattery and fake love.  Everyone in Katherine's life insisted she was “not like other girls”, “wiser”, “special”, “smart”...  </p><p>	“An old soul.”  “Intelligent for her age.”  “Adult.”</p><p>	I will let you know here and now that if any adult ever refers to you as such you are to get away.  They wish nothing but to cause you harm.  The only people who should be treated as adults are that specific demographic.  Children and teenagers, while perhaps being more intelligent than their peers or more emotionally mature, are still children and teenagers.  Implying otherwise is predatory.</p><p>	As I said, every time Katherine got hurt she was blamed.  By the person who abused her, yes; but also by the people surrounding her.  Terms she used for herself like “slut”, “harlot” and “easy” entered her lexicon due to hearing them repeated by every authority figure in her life.</p><p>	Is it surprising, taking all this into account, that she believed there was truly something wrong with her?  That she saw herself as repulsive when she looked in a mirror?</p><p>	The fact that she was being called “adult” (and even given some responsibilities no child should be burdened with) was reinforced by every person who insisted she “must have done something” or “been seductive.”  In the end she internalized that she was in fact older than she was and that hence she had no saving grace: if she didn't want to be hurt, she should have been smarter.  Wiser.  Acted like an adult and seen the danger.  Since she had not, in her mind that made the harm she received her own responsibility.</p><p>	By the time she and Anna met Katherine was not as much of a child and more of a twisted version of an adult.  Not because it was something “unique” or “desirable” about her, but rather because any innocence and hope had been ripped out of her, leaving a festering mass of confusion and self-loathing behind.  Instead of being allowed to grow and develop she had been pulled straight into the cruel reality of the world without anyone to ease her pain.</p><p>	She was executed at seventeen, Mae.  Seventeen.  Whenever it is you are reading this think what you were doing at that age.  Katherine at seventeen had the appropriate age to meet new people and regard the world with wonder and curiosity.  She was old enough to learn many different things and figure out what she wanted from life, to discover her passions.</p><p>	Instead by the time she died, and much earlier as well, she was quiet and well-mannered.  Lively, yes, but to a degree acceptable for adults.  She had no formal education, rendering her more impulsive and genuine, but that was the extent of it.  She seemed to have accepted that she was a bad person and that at every turn she would be punished for existing.</p><p>	She always thought she deserved the harm that came her way.  Both because as a self-perceived “adult” she should have been smarter; and secondly because she must most definitely be doing something wrong, in her eyes, to repeatedly attract cruel people.  If she were good she would draw in different crowds, correct?</p><p>	Well, no.  The people who surrounded her were vultures and she a decaying animal.  They saw a weak, unprotected victim who was easy to manipulate and had already been gaslit into oblivion, and took their revolting shot.  She did not “attract bad people” out of any fault of her own.  She was someone who nobody would defend and that made her an easy target.</p><p>	Bastards.  Every last one of them.</p><p>	Granted, that she believed herself to be responsible for the repeated abuse she endured made her feel stupid.  The one thing everyone agreed about her was that she was mature, an adult.  Why then was she unable to protect herself?  Why was she so desperate for love and protection that she believed anyone who whispered sweet nothings in her ear?</p><p>	Because she was a child, for crying out loud.  She needed an adult presence in her life to take the wheel for her; she was exhausted.  The tiredness of years of making choices and being burdened by adult responsibilities had crushed her as far back as she could remember.  No wonder she dragged a weariness beyond her years with her.</p><p>	No wonder it dragged her down.</p><p>	To make matters worse, since she saw herself as an abomination leading a sinful life, it was all too easy for her to make excuses for her abusers.  Not only did she deserve what they handed her; she should be thankful.  They bothered giving her a bit of “love” (a term I use very loosely here), a thing like her.  Wasn't it unfair that they got nothing from it?  After all she was a burden, a waste of space.  Solely in her opinion, of course.</p><p>	The final nail in the coffin was that Katherine grew to love easily.  That starvation made her heart leap at anyone who as much as payed attention to her.  When, after being hurt long enough (or seeing others get hurt who were not as repulsive as she was to herself), she realized the people she had loved were indeed terrible that solidified in her mind that she was as well.  After all, no good person would love a monster and yet she had.  Even if she hated them with searing rage later.</p><p>	She never framed that as having been fooled by them and in time learning that they were atrocious entities.  No, according to her she should have always known better.</p><p>	Anna was the only source of comfort in her life and that this point I have repeated ad nauseam that Katherine felt she did not deserve that.  She was far too gone by the time they met, her mind had already been shattered.  Her perception was twisted and gnarled.  The lens she saw the world through was cracked, giving her a fractured, unreliable view.</p><p>	The view that she was terrible.  The view that she deserved to be hated.  </p><p>	The idea that she needed to be punished.</p><p>	Those horrendously wrong notions were only amplified by her death.  I have already told you about the bloodbath her execution became and have no intention to reiterate that story.  But there was more, much more.  The horror she went though in her last moments alive was but the culmination of the torture she had endured leading up to that day.</p><p>	While I did delve into Katherine's first life soon after reincarnation due to my curiosity regarding her death I never did so again.  I know nothing that history has to say about us unless any of the others has wanted to share something with me.  It is a sort of unspoken rule, common courtesy.  Nobody would want anyone else to know about their private life, after all.  As such the events from here get a bit murky, but please bear with me.</p><p>	Before Henry decided to marry Katherine there had been two men who had already hurt her.  After her wedding Kitty thought Culpeper, one of Henry's courtiers, was a trustworthy presence in her life.  Somebody she could trust, who wanted to help her.  A friend.</p><p>	The intentions Culpeper had with her were anything but friendly.  By the time Katherine realized it was too late.  That was the beginning of the end for her.  She knew from experience that were she to report the incident nobody would believe her.  She would be blamed all over again, accused of having provoked him.</p><p>	And that would be in the event she decided to do something about it.  Given that she was long past the point of demonizing herself I doubt the idea crossed her mind.  Instead she just accepted it.  She had caught another bad person's attention.  She must be doing something wrong.  If she got hurt it was her own fault for not being smart enough.</p><p>	It's really brutal, Mae.  It still hurts.</p><p>	Of course, her rotund negative to giving Culpeper what he wanted coupled with her silence gave him even more leverage against her.  Soon he began blackmailing her.  If she wished to keep her head on her shoulders she best be obedient.  A “good girl”.</p><p>	I hate writing these words.  They are so uncomfortable.</p><p>	I cannot stress enough that your auntie was incredibly young.  If even a grownup would have had trouble weathering such a storm it was doubly trying for her.  She was alone, she had nobody to rely on.  And so out of fear she gave in.  Little by little she accepted more and more negative people into her life, more enemies into court.  Enemies whose silence she had to pay for with compliance.</p><p>	One of said enemies was the disgusting excuse for a human being who thought calling her his “wife” as something romantic.  Katherine had to live not with two, but three of her abusers after that.</p><p>	You must understand that secrets in court were rarely ever secret.  With so many people around her who knew about her past the knowledge was bound to become public.  After months of being stressed out by blackmail, unable to sleep feeling unsafe with so many threats to her safety around her, it amounted to nothing.  All the toil she had put into keeping herself alive crumbled and all she could do was watch in abject horror as her fate was sealed for her.</p><p>	Found guilty of having been a victim, in simpler terms.  Having “deceived” Henry as if by that time he was a poor innocent fool who did not know how to tell if a woman was a virgin or not.  He knew damn well.  He knew, he just didn't care because he was infatuated with her.  It only mattered when it became public knowledge; when the whole court talked about it behind his back.  His frail, frail ego could not take it and somebody had to die for it.</p><p>	Well, more than one person.  But more on that in a minute.</p><p>	As much as Katherine faced death head on, she was not as calm when she learnt of what she would go through.  She had a fit, she</p><p>	She had a normal emotional reaction, is what I am saying.  She was afraid, tired, alone and hurt.  When given the choice to say she had always been married to Dereham and live with him she chose death.  Nothing in the world would ever make her even consider a life with that person.</p><p>	The other people who died as a direct consequence of Katherine's past of abuse being revealed and pinned on her were Dereham, Culpeper and her Lady in Waiting, Lady Rochford.  The first two I honestly do not care about and hope they stayed dead, but the latter is more of a nuanced topic.  </p><p>	Lady Rochford was not just any Lady in Waiting.  She had been Lina's Lady, too, and later on Anne's sister-in-law.  Lady Rochford married her brother, George Boleyn.</p><p>	She also happened to be a key piece in getting Anne and her brother executed.</p><p>	Annie loved George dearly.  So much so it was all too easy for twisted perverts to try to make of their relationship something that was not true.  One of the most important testimonies to back up such ridiculous claims came from Lady Rochford.</p><p>	Needless to say, Anne's feelings towards her are more than complex.  The word doesn't even do it justice.  As much pressure as Lady Rochford was submitted to I do not think Anne has it in her to forgive her.</p><p>	“Not for my death, mind you” she explained one day.  I don't remember how or why the subject came up.  “She could have said whatever about me and I would be fine with it: Henry had made up his mind, nobody could sway him.  ...But George?” I do remember how her gaze dropped, how her eyes glistened with tears.  “Why did she testify against him too?  He was just a pawn to get me killed, maybe he could have lived.  And-And then he could've taken care of Lizzie.  He would've made an awesome dad, he would've taken good care of her.  I...  I really don't want to hate her, but...”</p><p>	Her unfinished statement was more articulate than anything she could have strung together.  She does not wish to hate her, does not want to judge her without knowing if and how she was tortured.  Yet still she finds it hard to forgive her.  To not see her as the person directly responsible for her brother's death.</p><p>	In a way I am rather sure Anne's feelings towards Lady Rochford are as complex as they are towards me.  The only difference is there is evidence I was an unknowing character in Lizzie's tragedy (not that that makes it any better) while Annie never received convincing, unarguable confirmation that Lady Rochford had not sold her brother out of spite of any form.</p><p>	The other reason Lady Rochford is seldom brought up, if at all, is Katherine.  As someone who had no close friends to rely on Katherine enlisted Lady Rochford to assist her arrange her meetings with Culpeper.  That sentence, “arranging meetings”, was given a very wrong meaning in court when it just meant that: she was being blackmailed and she wanted it to end.  Any advances made on her were against her will, not something she was actively seeking.</p><p>	If you have read up on your auntie a certain letter may come to mind.  Many interpretations can be given to it, but knowing what I know about her I bear no doubts she was trying to appease Culpeper in a desperate attempt to keep her life.  You will have to trust me on this one, my girl.</p><p>	Since Katherine, seeing how uncomfortable talking about Lady Rochford made Anne, never discussed their relationship in depth, it is uncertain what role Lady Rochford played in her life.  My sources here are historians, which again are wildly inaccurate, but there seem to be two schools of thought: Lady Rochford was an innocent bystander who got dragged onto the scaffold with Katherine because she involved her in her problems; or that she saw Culpeper and Katherine's relationship as “romantic” and encouraged both of them to have an affair.</p><p>	If it was the second I hope she is also rotting in hell with Culpeper; if it is the first the situation becomes even more complex.  Either way I refuse to pass judgement on a person whose story I am unsure of.  I have no strong feelings towards Lady Rochford and if anything avoid discussing her out of respect for Anne.</p><p>	However it really happened Katherine felt responsible for her death.  I can still see her feeling at fault even if the truth were that Lady Rochford encouraged her to do such a dangerous thing.  And that guilt your auntie died with, nestled deep within her soul, and brought back to her second life.</p><p>	This is a good moment to pause and think critically: assuming Lady Rochford was just following Katherine's orders, does that make your auntie guilty of her death?</p><p>	Of course not.  Allow me to explain.</p><p>	If we were to say that Katherine is at fault for Henry's decision to execute Lady Rochford we must be willing to say the same about Anne.  How her brother died because of her, because all she had to do was keep a safe distance from him and all her loved ones once she realized Henry was out to get her.  She is highly intelligent, and was so back then as well.  Certainly she saw danger.  What stopped her from keeping her loved ones away from her for their safety?  She assumed the rumors going through court about her and her brother were so ridiculous nobody would listen to them, and yet they were the reason George was executed.</p><p>	Do you see the logical incongruence there?  The only person at fault was the man who decided innocents had to die.  And in both cases (Annie and George; and Katherine and Lady Rochford) that would be Henry.</p><p>	It was even more insidious in Lady Rochford's case: she allegedly only stood guard and passed letters on her queen's orders.  She then confessed and did not hinder the “investigation”.  The stress in the end made her lose her mind and Henry specifically made a new law to allow him to murder the mentally ill.</p><p>	Oh, yes.  That was quite illegal until he decided Lady Rochford must die.</p><p>	Even in the case that Katherine had not arranged meetings with Culpeper, that would have meant her secret would have been known earlier.  Do you think for a second that Lady Rochford would have been spared, having been Katherine's closest Lady as the one who tended to her bedchambers?  Do you think anyone would have believed that she knew nothing?</p><p>	Because, another important detail to keep in mind here: no other Lady in Waiting of any previous queen had been executed.  Not Lina's Ladies after she was suspected of having deceived Henry into marrying her.  Not Anne's Ladies after she was accused of multiple affairs and witchcraft.  They were not even questioned in her trial.  It was generally assumed that Ladies followed their queens' orders and hence were not to blame.  Katherine could not have foreseen that Lady Rochford would be the first.</p><p>	Anyways, very arguably, by preserving her private matters from the public eye, Katherine was also protecting those who surrounded her.  That she needed a helping hand in the middle of that tempest was unfortunate but necessary.</p><p>	And given that Henry was willing to bother making a new law to execute Lady Rochford how can we say for certain that, had she outlived Katherine, he would not have found another reason?  Henry did as he saw fit and nobody dared question him.</p><p>	Katherine never meant to hurt her Lady.  Just like Anne never meant to hurt her brother.  And let us assume for a moment that your auntie really was selfish and did not think of the potential consequences of involving Lady Rochford.  Is that by any means the worse thing you have read about?  Asking her to deliver some letters and stand guard?  Is that somehow more problematic than Lina having no issues with Henry grooming Bessie Blount?  Than Jane going out of her way to purposefully hurt Anne?</p><p>	Everyone at court with Henry was at risk.  Even looking at it from the worst possible angle (which I can personally assure you is not true, as Katherine would never do something that could harm someone out of ill intent) the only real culprit at the end of the day is Henry.</p><p>	Needless to say, your auntie never saw it as such.  She died with the conviction that she was a killer.  That innocent blood was on her hands.  That if she had been better, if she had been smarter, if she had found a way to take care of everything on her own, only she would have died.</p><p>	I have spent several paragraphs unpacking that.  You get the point, it was a ridiculous train of thought.  One that only served to fuel her self-perception that she was an evil person who deserved the heinous end she met.</p><p>	The final detail to discuss regarding the horrors your auntie was put through on the way to her execution was seeing the remains of Dereham and Culpeper's bodies.  Few things can scar the human mind as much as seeing segmented corpses.  However the damage that did to her she never discussed.</p><p>	When she woke up, for the short while her memories were gone, she was almost happy.  But as soon as the curtain draped over her past life was pulled back, Katherine became the sad, self-loathing person we would know from that point forward.</p><p>	A bad person.  A slut.  A murderer.</p><p>	Despite knowing how she got to those conclusions I still cannot help but wonder in irate frustration why that happened.  Why her?  Nobody deserves such a fate, granted, but out of all of us, who had all done questionable at best things, why was Katherine the one burdened with that?</p><p>	Why not me?</p><p>	We then promptly and all too happily reinforced those rotten beliefs for her and you know how the story goes from here: your auntie, being the literal angel she was, began working hard to build a family out of the mismatched scraps of history the land of the dead had spat back into the world.  Except, as I have said multiple times, that was never her intention and us becoming a family was in great part the reason she broke down to such a degree.</p><p>	It is quite counter-intuitive that she did not wish to build the bonds she forged.  What was she expecting the outcome would be?  What did she have against developping healthy relationships for once?</p><p>	Two main factors.  First and foremost, her inability to trust.  As far as she could tell any and every person who she developed any brand of feelings for could and would exploit her.  Nobody except for Anna was to be trusted, everybody else was a potential threat.</p><p>	Secondly, her unshakable certainty that, especially because she realized we were good people, she did not deserve us.  That she brought ruin and misfortune to all those around her.  Dishonouring her family with her “behaviour”, leading Lady Rochford to her demise.  She saw herself as much of a hazard to us as we were to her.</p><p>	That she accepted we did not intend to harm her did not magically make her trust issues go away.  It just added more lumber to the pyre of confusion that clouded her.</p><p>	When Katherine began reaching out it was always to fix others.  She accepted Anne's advances to ensure her cousin was not alone.  Later on she reached out to Jane with the intention of convincing her to spend time with the rest.  She accepted my apology so I would not feel guilty for having insulted her, she got involved with Lina out of concern for her health.  None of those actions were ever directed towards forging lasting bonds herself.  She intended to use herself as a bridge between the rest of us, a nexus point, and then vanish.</p><p>	I still struggle to believe she thought she was so easy to forget.  That we could get to know her and then ignore her existence.  The world is unfair like that.  Some times the most precious people who dedicate their lives to making the world a better place are unable to see that in themselves.</p><p>	Her plan only partially worked.  Yes, she indeed managed to bring everyone closer.  We were no longer alone, we had a support network.  On that she succeeded.  However we were not repulsed by her.  We did not discard her once we had other people because for crying out loud, she was not replaceable.</p><p>	We love her damn it.</p><p>	The fact that we wanted her around coupled with her developing feelings towards us, which she had not counted on, confused her.  She wished to ignore all the warning alarms going off in her head and just give herself the chance to love and be loved, but she could not.  It was the reason she was hellbent on leaving once she realized she cared about Annie and Jane.</p><p>	Her mind was constantly battling itself.  “They will hurt you.”  “You will bring them nothing but grievances.”  “Why are you trusting them?”  “Why are you fooling them into trusting you?”  “People only want one thing from you.”  “Why are you preying on their kindness?”</p><p>	My girl was fourteen when we woke up.  Fourteen.</p><p>	That anxiety and incongruence was sprinkled with flashbacks and night terrors.  About things she never said; and those she did I dare not name.  The horrors that kept her awake trembling under the sheets paralyzed in fear you need not know.</p><p>	Trauma can be loud, and stereotypically is.  Then again media seldom portrays accurate representation of anything.  While yes, a lot of trauma is tangible, like Annie's shrill screams and visceral reactions to blood, it can also be deathly silent.  Somebody could be plagued by it and you would never know.</p><p>	That was exactly Katherine's case.  Everything about her was quiet.  She had learnt from far too many negative experiences to internalize all her fears and never let them show; lest anyone use them against her.</p><p>	Katherine's trauma was almost invisible.  Silent panic attacks that rendered her immobile.  Unexpected flashbacks that made her freeze in her actions for a split-second before continuing as if nothing had happened.  Nightmares that were reduced to hushed gasps and no tears. </p><p>	It would take a lot of time and observation for us to learn her cues.  When she was overwhelmed, when she needed to be alone, when she wanted to cry.  Being silent and going unnoticed was so ingrained with her even once she began trusting us she could not shake it off.</p><p>	Among all the terrors that ate away at her Katherine needed an outlet.  Everyone does, my girl.  Loud people like auntie Anne and Lina explode eventually.  Quiet people, like auntie Jane, deal with it behind closed doors until the issue inevitably seeps through the cracks.</p><p>	Katherine was a step beyond being silent.  Silent would have been one thing.  She did not begin showing signs of distress until Anna told her and Anne about Lizzie and I.  That was in May.  Your auntie spent the better part of six months hiding her destructive emotions in plain sight, coaching everyone else through their aching.</p><p>	“Since I felt like a bad person I thought I could be good by helping the rest of you out, you know?” she confessed after everything went to hell in a handbasket.  “I just wanted to see everyone be happy.  Henry and so many others had already hurt you enough.  Everyone could use some kindness.”</p><p>	Everyone but herself, apparently.</p><p>	As I alluded to when talking about the abuse she was exposed to at school, Katherine was positive she deserved some form of punishment.  For burdening Anna, for somehow fooling us into liking her.  For existing.  Her tortured mind began juggling possibilities before her death day, but none seemed satisfying.</p><p>	“I guess I started panicking when Annie said she wanted to be my friend.  I didn't want her near me; but it got worse when I saw we did love each other.  I just wanted to get out of everyone's way before I fucked up worse and made other people love me.  The first thing I thought about was running away.  What happened to me later didn't matter, I couldn't care less.  But I thought it'd be a bad idea because Anna was legally responsible for me and I didn't want to get her in any trouble.  So no, I decided it had to be something that affected only me.”</p><p>	“Only her.”  As if having been subjected to the agony of being but a helpless observer of her self-destruction had confined her aching to herself.  Curses.</p><p>	I will say it once so you know what I am talking about and will go into as little details as possible, my girl.  While context is important this is not something I enjoy talking about and not something you will relish reading.</p><p>	Your auntie soon turned to self harm.  It made her mind shut up for a while, giving her the false sense that she was “controlling her pain”; and it made her feel like she was admonishing herself.</p><p>	Never believe that anything good can come from this.  Self-destructive behaviours can be addictive.  From the story I will tell you about myself after this one, much to my dismay, I know personally.  There is no “control”.  Just like your mother still had none after she did what she did.  The only way to solve a problem is to face it head on; not to use life threatening alternatives.</p><p>	I am begging you to never do such a thing.  The media may also glamourize it but that is a dangerous fallacy unlike any other.  Please, my princess, I implore you.  Always, regardless of the circumstances, take care of yourself.</p><p>	I refuse to discuss how.  The only relevant details for you to understand the story as it happened are the following: one, her method left visible scars; and two, four of them  were words.  Words directly linked to what your aunties and I had said of her upon waking up.  “A reminder”, as she called them, of what she “really was.”</p><p>	I'm sorry Mae.   I am so sorry.  There is no way to excuse how we handled our criminal feelings towards Kitty.  Be it a problem with the Howards or with her specifically.  What we did to that girl was an outright crime.</p><p>	The proverbial crowning jewel to that disaster of a situation was her finding out what had happened to Lizzie.  Not because it made her feel temporarily unsafe and lose trust in Anna; but because Katherine attributed that to herself as well: if she'd been better and smarter like she felt obliged to be she could have kept her life.  As such Henry would not have married me, and then Lizzie would have never lived with Thomas.  In this life, Anne would not be devastated by the trauma her daughter endured.</p><p>	Katherine believed if we ever found out that over half of our hardships had been her fault we would hate her.  She felt she needed to get away from us, to stop leeching our kindness that she clearly did not deserve.  She hated herself every time I was kind to her.  Every time Anne worried about her, every time Anna did something for her.  Because we had all known Lizzie and loved her.  And she had to suffer because Katherine was unable to keep her past under wraps.</p><p>	It's interesting that not once did it cross her mind Henry would have gotten tired of her and wed me regardless.  That it was my fault that Lizzie had suffered with Thomas.  In Katherine's mind she was a harbinger of misery, capable of destroying lives by not being good enough.</p><p>	Needless to say, these feelings intensified her need to let her emotions out.  They finished sinking a ship that was already full of holes.</p><p>	We were none the wiser until an incident at the end of August.  As much as I have wracked my mind over the years I cannot think of a single red flag that could have clued us into her coping mechanism of choice.  I feel like we should have been able to notice something, anything; but the only signs came from her behaviour alone.  And it would take far too long for us to decipher that.</p><p>	I must say it was an otherwise splendorous summer.  After all the hardships we had gone through vacation period was just what we needed to finish fleshing out the dynamics we had slowly eased into.  As our jobs and studies left us more free time to spend together we became closer, more tight knit.  We had family activities; but also things on an individual level we liked to share with specific others.</p><p>	Lina and Anne began going on walks to talk about their unsorted problems.  Anne and Anna started working out together.  Jane and I, after she felt confident enough, began the book club we had discussed in April.  Katherine and Jane resumed baking together when Katherine slowly regained her trust in Janey.  Jane and your mother saw the rise of their passion for crime series.  Lina and Katherine, who had no common footing earlier, discovered they were both documentary nerds.  The list goes on, I cherish every moment spent with them.</p><p>	It was being a good summer for us as individuals as well.  Anna was still learning to eat in a healthy fashion once more, but she was progressing.  Annie was making a spectacular recovery from sepsis and also got diagnosed with ADHD-C in those months, thus beginning another learning experience.  Janey had a lot of time to practice reading and writing and went as far as to write a very short thank you note to each of us for having supported her and helped her. </p><p>	As for myself specifically, after spending more time with your mother I was certain of one unarguable thing: my feelings for her were different than they were for the rest.  While I loved them all equally my heart did not race when talking to the others, nor did I feel self-conscious about my appearance around them.  I have a terrible time accurately labeling relationships though, and so for a while I decided to ignore those feelings.</p><p>	Apparently your mother was also incredibly awkward around me and it went right over my head.  After we got together we were informed that we were the last two people at home to realize we were in love.</p><p>	Also, that summer was when auntie Anne initiated the tradition of blanket forts.  It all started after Lina was having a particularly bad heart palpitation day.  After she went to rest Anne started remodeling our living room.</p><p>	“Everyone needs a blanket fort and some extra love some days.  That's what we're doing for Lina” was all the explanation she gave.</p><p>	Granted, nobody thought Lina would be a fan of that.  You know how stoic your auntie can come across as.  And yet when she came downstairs and saw the display she gave us all a sweeping look and sank in between Annie and I.</p><p>	“I'm assuming this is my blanket fort, so I'll pick the damn movie.”</p><p>	This, in turn, revealed that Lina is in fact a blanket for enthusiast and over the years she and Anne have held a healthy competitive side regarding who can design the comfiest, nicest one.  Generally speaking I prefer Annie's, but I would never say that to Lina in a mixture of caring for her feelings and fear for my safety (that last part is a joke).</p><p>	It also spawned the still ongoing war as to what to call blanket forts made in summer with sheets instead of blankets: Annie insists they are called “summer blanket forts”; while Lina says calling sheets “summer blankets” is unacceptable and they should be dubbed “sheet forts.”</p><p>	Once again I side with Anne.  “Summer blanket forts” is an endearing term.</p><p>	Anyways, summer blanket forts aside, auntie Kitty was still riding the high of showing an inkling of compassion towards herself.  That gentle hope that had grown in her when Lina took her out to walk after she discovered Katherine was being bullied still lived within your auntie's heart.  Little by little, after we all discussed our boundaries, she began showing awkward and clumsy signs of affection without holding back as much.  It was heartwarming and refreshing to see her shiftily walk up to Lina, who had said she was generally okay with physical contact, and shyly offer a hug.</p><p>	We all loved each other and that much was undeniable.  But the bonds we had forged with Katherine were special in their own way.  She was so young, so tiny.  Despite not knowing what living nightmares had made her into her the distrustful, hyper-aware girl we knew, everyone sensed that it must be hard for her to let her guard down even infinitesimally.</p><p>	Allow to to revel in her memory Mae, please.  There hasn't been a day I have not missed her since she died.  The most tangible way I can conjure her up is through words.  Just this once I am going to be self-indulgent and show you an inkling of the unfiltered joy those summer months brought.</p><p>	Think of it as a brief pause before the narration gets heavy again.  I think we could both do with that.</p><p>	The first time your auntie and I had a sleepover was nearing the end of July.  After the pancake incident we were slowly but surely finding stability and comfort in each other.  That particular day was close to the end of the week and once again I was running short on time to deliver my article.  I still had a few days, but I wanted to finish it and revise.  Learning all I could about ADHD to better help and understand your auntie had taken most of my time away and I needed to compensate.</p><p>	That meant an unhealthy sleeping schedule and the beginning of what would in time evolve into a severe caffeine addiction; but that tale is for later.  </p><p>	The important part is that your mother and your aunties knew I was not resting.  It must have showed in the bags under my eyes, or how little I spent time with them.  Either way, they were concerned about me.  But, as we were still learning about one another, nobody was certain about which route to take, what would actually help and get me to react.  So far no gentle invitations to join them, reminders to take care or anything in that vein had helped.</p><p>	And so your auntie Kitty decided to take matters into her own hands.  She would have to lie, something she was not fond of, but it was for a good reason.  She was a wonderful actress.  Had music not been her passion theaters would have gained a resplendent star.</p><p>	Well.  Music halls didn't, either.  Again, pointless musings.</p><p>	That night she knocked on my door, eyes wide and hair disheveled.  My article didn't quite leave my mind, but it did slip to the background.</p><p>	“I had a nightmare and... since you're the only one awake, I figured...   Oh, never mind.  I'm so sorry Catherine, you're probably too busy for this.”</p><p>	Listen, I had no idea what “this” entailed.  But, to my knowledge, it was the first time Katherine sought someone after a nightmare.  I rapidly considered waking one of the others, someone who was better prepared than me to handle unexpected situations; but I discarded those thoughts.  Katherine had come to me for whichever reason.  I was not about to disrespect that.  Instead I asked very directly what she needed or wanted exactly.  I would not waste both our times by trying to aimlessly guess.</p><p>	“Would you mind if... if we had a sleepover?  Please?”</p><p>	I must have hesitated a second too long.  I really wanted to finish my article.  Only then would I be able to sleep.  When your auntie noticed my internal questioning she apologized again and turned to leave.</p><p>	My hand reached out to grab her before my mind gave the word.  To hell with the article, it would still be there in the morning.  The courage that it must have taken Katherine to come to me could fade.</p><p>	I did ask her if she minded waiting for me to finish the paragraph I was working on.  I did not want to leave that unfinished.  She once again asked if she was interrupting.  My lie, a blatant “of course not!”, sounded forced and fake from what she told me later.  But her intention was getting me some proper rest, so she pretended to believe it.</p><p>	A few minutes later I joined Katherine in my bed.  It was horrendously awkward.  I was unsure of what she wanted, of what I would be comfortable with.  I did not want to have a breakdown in front of her and make her regret seeking my help, so once again I asked.</p><p>	“I'd... be quite comfortable if you hugged me.  You can let go whenever, of course.  That's up to you, I don't want to make you uncomfortable.”</p><p>	I was still processing her proposition when she inched closer towards me.  I figured there was no way of knowing if I didn't try it and raised an arm to pull her in.</p><p>	Few things in either life have made me feel the surge of warmth I experienced when Katherine snuggled up to me.  I knew the hangups she had with affection.  I was aware of how uncertain she was as well from the rosy blush on her cheeks.  But there was such softness in the way she whispered “Thank you.  Good night” and then rushed an almost inaudible “I love you” that I almost teared up.</p><p>	There was something truly precious and delicate about Katherine sleeping in my arms.  I knew her trust was frail, and yet she was being as defenseless as a person can be with me of her own accord.  She had come to me when distressed, emotional.  That was invaluable.  I felt like I had been granted the world's most valuable and delicate treasure.  </p><p>	My heart beat so fast it made me wonder if Katherine could hear it.  But soon her breathing evened out and she was most definitely peacefully asleep beside me.</p><p>	With such excitement and the heavy emotional charge there was no way I could sleep.  I decided I would stay with her for a short while, to be certain she was indeed resting, and then I would return to my article.</p><p>	Next thing I knew the sun was coming in through my window and it was close to midday.  I was still grasping Katherine.  As Janey once put it, I have the hugging capabilities of a koala when I am comfortable.  Kitty was scrolling on her phone.</p><p>	My mouth could not keep up with the pace of my apologies.  How long had she been awake for?  Why hadn't she left?</p><p>	“Too risky.  If you'd let go of me maybe I would have tried it.  But since you didn't I just stayed with you.  Don't worry though.  Annie got me my phone and there's this webcomic I wanted to catch up with anyways.”</p><p>	It was then she explained that she hadn't had any nightmares.  It was all an elaborate ruse to get me to sleep.  She asked if I was mad at her.  Annoyed yes, quite.  But I did feel astronomically better.  The exhaustion had been weighing down on me more than I realized.  While I would have preferred a more honest approach I was aware I hadn't been particularly reasonable.</p><p>	Exhaustion is a demon that can strip you of your common sense, Mae.  I must also ask you to always handle your sleeping schedule with care.  Again, more on why I am so familiar with this later.</p><p>	So in short I was not cross at her.  Mainly because I was aware that I had left neither her nor the others other alternatives.  Before we went down to breakfast (well, lunch, but it was breakfast for us) I did have something to tell her, though.  The last thing that had crossed my mind before falling asleep.</p><p>	“You said you loved me last night, and, uhh...  Me too.”</p><p>	It was so embarrassing to say out loud.  Bordering on uncomfortable.  But I needed her to know; I was still under the assumption that everyone was as bad as understanding unspoken emotions as I was.  So I did what I felt was right.</p><p>	Her face lit up.  It was the most adorable sight.</p><p>	“I know, don't worry.”</p><p>	In case the scene could not get more tooth-rotting in sweetness she gave me a kiss on the cheek.</p><p>	I miss that.  I miss her.</p><p>	That entire day was adorable.  Well rested I finally conceded to having proper meals with everyone else instead of leftovers I took into my room.  I told them about my article at last and exactly where I had gotten stuck.  Just by talking about it writer's block began to crumble a bit.  I know not how speaking of my work out loud once or twice can make me see inconsistencies faster than reading it tenfold in my room; but it was a moment of discovery.  From that day forwards my go-to for said cases as well as volunteer proof reader was Annie.</p><p>	And still as much as I am trying to delay it, I have to press forwards.  That shimmering happiness and tenderness of our first summer together would prove to be but a mirage soon after.  Up until the middle of August our lowest point had been Anna's death day.  But by the time we were more than prepared to handle it and care for her.</p><p>	On August 13th Katherine had a terrible day.  We were all worried about her.  She woke up late, insisted she felt feverish and even fell asleep half way through the morning.  While nowhere near as bad at resting as I was, Katherine was not one for naps.  Every time someone asked she said she had slept with the fan on and must have gotten cold at night.</p><p>	Even for someone as good a liar as her it did not wash.  She was long past her breaking point and it was finally beginning to show.</p><p>	Still ignorant to the true depth of her troubles we discussed what we could do to make her feel better.  Anne had an idea: the following day we should take Katherine to a new restaurant she'd had her eyes on for some time.  It wasn't famous for its meals as much as it was for its deserts.  Surely that would cheer her up at least for a while?  And hopefully, if she felt better, she would be more open to discussing her problems with us?</p><p>	Same principle as Katherine getting me to sleep to make me realize I needed help, I guess.  The key difference here being I was willing to accept assistance.</p><p>	We agreed we would take her out for lunch and went to sleep.  The following morning Katherine said she did not want to go out.  That she was feeling better but she had some homework to catch up on.  It wasn't until Lina more or less guilted her into going using Anna as leverage that Katherine agreed.  Lina told her it was one of the first times Anna wanted to go out for lunch since what happened in June.  One of the first times neither she nor I preferred to stay.  Surely it would be nice if we were all together for such a moment?</p><p>	Lina described Katherine's agreement as “very annoyed.  Eyes almost rolled into the back of her head.  Was not happy about it.”</p><p>	In all honesty few things were as unappealing as leaving the house that day.  The hustle and bustle of a relatively new joint sounded exhausting.  I woke up in a bad mood myself.  Anna admitted to being rather anxious as well.  Anne's proposal had been impulsive and while in theory it sounded nice the day we actually had to go and eat outside made your mother and I uncomfortable.  When Jane proposed we go elsewhere it was too late: Lina had already used your mother to convince Katherine of leaving the house.</p><p>	Hopefully she could leave her concerns behind for a while, right?  If that were the case, the effort would be worth it.</p><p>	I must say, Mae, everything was going almost perfect.  Already on the way there Katherine smiled more, became talkative.  And once we got there the restaurant was surprisingly quiet.  I assume because a lot of people were out on vacation elsewhere.  It was nowhere near as loud as I expected.  There were other customers, but it wasn't crowded either.  The booths in front of us and behind us were empty, which was optimal for your mother at the time.  The experience was going to be hard enough for her with just us as witnesses.</p><p>	Everything was going so smoothly.  Jane was making horrendous puns (your auntie Anne wound up spitting Coke out of her nose in a fit of laughter), Lina and I were talking about something that had me very engaged, Katherine and Anna were discussing a future outing to a duck pond...</p><p>	By the time the famous desserts arrived I was ready to call the day a success.  We were all having fun, it was a picture perfect scene.  One of so many I wish I could have snapped a photo of and kept forever.  A beautifully simple yet meaningful snippet of time.</p><p>	And then they arrived.</p><p>	Three boys, just a bit older than Katherine.  We were almost done with our desserts and ready to leave when they were seated in the booth behind ours.  The only ones of us who hadn't finished yet were Anne, who is incapable of eating ice-cream without getting brain freeze, and myself.  I prefer my ice-cream warmed up, texture-wise, so I was being purposefully slow.</p><p>	Lina told us to lower our voices, even though we were not talking loud by any means.  It was rude, after all, to intrude on other customers' enjoyment and we were back to back with one another.</p><p>	Well the boys seemed to have not learnt those manners anywhere.  They were being loud enough it was getting uncomfortable for me.  But still, Annie and I had the right to finish, so I figured I would deal with it.</p><p>	Their conversation was boring.  They were whining about having to take summer classes for having failed multiple subjects.  After ordering they complained some more, about their shared tutor, specifically.  While talking about what they were revising with him, a student several years ahead of them from what I gathered, we found out that one of them had failed History.</p><p>	Naturally, because that moment had to be foiled, he was at the time revising the Tudor period.</p><p>	Our happiness faded faster than you can blow a candle out.  Anne said she did not feel like finishing and neither did I.  We called the waiter and got our bags ready to leave as soon as we payed.</p><p>	They must have been understaffed, or at the very least that is the only explanation I can find as to why they took so long.  The restaurant was empty because it was August, yes; but they also had less staff on hand due to it.</p><p>	Another of the brats who were sat behind us had apparently excelled in History and asked his peer what he knew off the top of his head.  Granted what he was most knowledgeable on were Henry's wives and that stupid rhyme.  When asked what he knew about each of them Lina suggested we all leave and she stay behind to pay.  I think we all had the collective feeling that something was about to go awry.</p><p>	I wish we had acted on it instead of arguing with Lina that she should let one of us stay with her.  I understand that we did not want her to deal with such an unpleasant experience alone, but as we quareled over who should stay we also overheard what those ignorant school boys had to say about us.</p><p>	“The faulty incubator.”  “The witch.”  The pushover.”  “The ugly horse.”  “The slut.”  “The survivor.”</p><p>	I cannot unhear those words.  They have followed me as consistently as my shadow has ever since I heard them.  If I were to encounter the person who said them and only heard him speak I would recognize his voice.</p><p>	The third boy, the one who had only failed Maths, if I remember correctly, disagreed.  It was not Lina's fault that she could not have a son, the claims of witchcraft against Anne could never be proven, Jane was most likely traumatized by Anne's execution and Anna was beautiful by many accounts.</p><p>	“The only one who got what she deserved was Howard.  Spread her legs at eleven and never stopped.”</p><p>	While that conversation sparked a lot of feelings in all of us it stopped being a matter of who stayed behind to pay the bill and more about getting Katherine out of there.  The way in which she froze, still as a statue, signaled that nothing else mattered.  Anna tried ushering her out, but she wasn't responsive.  Not to mention she was at the far end of the booth.  </p><p>	To make matters worse another waiter walked by us with a rather large group of people, blocking the hall and with it our way out.  After they passed by our waiter arrived at last.  In that time we managed to hear the words that would unlock the beginning of the end for our kitten.</p><p>	“She would've fucked whoever, really.  Her music teacher, her boss, the king, his courtier...  She was a stupid, brainless fuck and got what was coming her way.  If she'd just been a decent girl Parr wouldn't have had to deal with the old geezer.  Howard was a bitch and others had to go and pay the price for her stupidity.  Screw her, she didn't die slowly enough.”</p><p>	I still get nauseous thinking about that.  How Anna hurried by almost dragging Kitty behind her.  Lina stayed behind with Anne to deal with the bill while Janey and I followed Katherine and Anna to the door.</p><p>	“I'm sorry” was all Katherine said.  Over and over and over.  Anna and Jane were trying to say soothing things, to calm her down, to point out just how ignorant and sexist those boys were being.</p><p>	But then Kitty locked eyes with me.  Her gaze was hollow, but her face was scrunched up as if she were in pain.</p><p>	“I won't even ask you to forgive me but please know I'm sorry.”</p><p>	And then too many things happened at once.  Lina and Anne caught up to us, but I was too busy trying to get through to Katherine and tell her none of it was her fault.  Anna tried to grab her by the arm to lead her outside, but in the middle of a panic attack as she was Katherine stepped away from the hand she hadn't seen, that had startled her.</p><p>	She stepped into a child who was running full speed towards his parents, who were seated in the booth next to the door.  The kid had a plastic cup with some tea in it, which spilt to the floor.  Your auntie was confused, and in her haste to apologize and step away from the boy she walked straight into the puddle and slipped.  Anna reached forward, but her hand closed around the empty space Katherine had occupied a second prior.</p><p>	The dull 'thud' of her skull against the fire extinguisher on the wall was a quiet sound, but seemed to be the loudest one in the restaurant.  The world around me felt like it came to a halt, the scene unraveling in slow motion, until the little boy saw blood and screamed.</p><p>	 Katherine was out like a light before she hit the floor.  That would have been unnerving and nerve-wracking on its own, but to make matters worse she collapsed with her eyes open.  While apparently an entirely normal thing that happens when people's brains shut down faster than they can process it, at the time it frankly looked like she'd died.</p><p>	I don't remember a lot of what followed, my princess.  Someone called for an ambulance, the child's parents came both to retrieve him and apologize on his behalf.  Anna sank beside Katherine, at least one of us was crying...  But all that was happening in the  background of my mind.  I was barely aware of it.  My eyes were glued to Kitty, to the rise and fall of her chest.  That was all that mattered.  It was as if on some subconscious level I thought that if I as much as blinked that rhythmic movement would stop when my eyes opened.  Whichever emotions were surging through me were muted, nothing felt real.</p><p>	The ambulance's sirens snapped me out of my daze much like the boy's scream had.  But even then everything was happening too fast for me to keep up.  My next clear memory is getting into a taxi with Lina.  </p><p>	“I'm taking you home, love, don't worry.”</p><p>	Home?  Why would I want to go there?  I wanted to go to the hospital; I needed to know Katherine was alright.  Because it couldn't be that just when she was starting to come out of her shell, to let herself be cared for, she would leave us.  No, I refused to believe that; it was ridiculous.</p><p>	It would seem Anne and Janey got in another taxi to follow the ambulance.  Anna, as Katherine's legal guardian, was in it with her.  When asked if I wanted to go with them or if I was too overwhelmed I was unable to answer.   I don't recall having been asked, I cannot say for certain it was me going non-verbal or just being zoned out.</p><p>	Either way I would not go back home.  Even if I had to stay outside to avoid a repeat scenario of my last visit to the hospital I wanted to be with everyone else.  Lina asked if I was sure one time too many for my liking.  When we told the driver to take us to the hospital he'd taken several wrong turns.  We got there later than the rest.</p><p>	To my dismay I kept my word and remained outside.  I was unarguably worse than the others at handling phantom pains or so I thought, the last thing I wanted was to cause a scene.  Auntie Lina stayed with me all the time.  She didn't say anything, but you know that cross she always wears?  The one on the long golden chain that you've made a habit of pulling on, for some reason?  She already had it back then, and she was toying with it as she stared ahead of herself.</p><p>	Now I know that meant she was praying.</p><p>	“I tried getting in a more positive mindset.  What was a small fall compared to being pushed downstairs, right?  But even if it was a small concussion, it hadn't been two months since the last one.  What if that made her more vulnerable?”</p><p>	The prospect of losing Katherine was terrifying.  There was no logical reason to think that but I had a terrible feeling.  Something was very wrong, yet I could not name what.  The best way I can describe it is as if my heart pumped ice through my veins instead of blood.  And yet much to my dismay that was the time I felt it in a dull fashion.  I believe adrenaline and shock were numbing me.</p><p>	The second time such a thing happened I wouldn't have the privilege of being barely aware of my feelings; but more about that in a minute.</p><p>	Apparently we were informed that Katherine didn't have more than a mild concussion a few minutes after we arrived, but it felt like hours of bland nothingness.  It was Annie who came out, but despite bringing such good news she was frowning, her gaze not meeting either of us.</p><p>	“They also did a CAT scan” she said in a hoarse voice, staring somewhere to our right, her gaze lost.  Her eyes were puffy and red.  “One of her knees was really swollen, like last time, and they wanted to see if she'd broken something.  Thing is she was wearing jeans, and they have metal buttons and stuff, so they had to remove them for the CAT scan.  And--”</p><p>	She cut off as if she were choking on something, then broke down.  Lina took her into her arms, begging her to calm down.  To soothe Anne, yes; but also because she was terrified.  What had they seen in that scan?  Had Katherine broken a knee?  Because broken joints rarely fully heal.</p><p>	Those same questions were plaguing me as well when Anne started talking again.  Well, more like letting out fragmented sentences that were barely coherent strung together.  “We didn't notice”, “I don't know how this happened”...</p><p>	“Scars.”</p><p>	Scars?  She continued speaking, but that was where I got stuck.  What scars?  What did a CAT scan have to do with scars?  Why was Anne crying?  Why was Lina asking so insistently if she was sure?</p><p>	Anne sat down with us and took a deep breath, still clinging to Lina.</p><p>	“Why didn't I notice?” she asked.  Her voice was so quiet.  “She's my baby cousin for god's sake.”</p><p>	The correlation between scars and not so much the CAT scan as being undressed should have been more obvious, and I am positive that as you read this you are wondering how it took me so long to make the connection.  After all it was no secret that Katherine was hurting.  She allowed people to harass her in school, there were at least two instances of her openly admitting to perceiving herself as a “thing”, or having “deserved it.”  She told me outright that I needn't apologize, as in her opinion it was right of me to insult her.</p><p>	It is a tad bit more complex than that.  Those events had happened earlier, June being the month when she began being happier.  Since then Katherine had changed, became more vibrant; at least in appearance.  Yes, she was taking tiny step by tiny step, but...</p><p>	The main problem here may be your memories of your auntie are hazy.  You do not remember her smile, how tight and full of love her embraces were.  Her laughter sounded like it could cure sadness on its own; it was contagious.  She had the most understanding and patient way of listening, of making one feel heard and valued.  She went out of her way to remind everyone that she loved us.  Some times she'd leave arbitrary sticky notes on the fridge for us at random.</p><p>	“Janey!  Just remember you're lovely :)”, “Hi Lina!!  Has anyone told you you're amazing yet today?  No?  Because you are :)”, “Annie I love you more than I love Undertale ♥”, “Anna, brief message: you're the best”.</p><p>	“Cathy!  That's enough coffee!  Go to sleep!!!”, “If you're reading this at 3 AM again it's time for you to call it a day, Cath”, “Cathy have I told you you're beautiful lately?”, “Gentle reminder that I love you Cath, for love of all that is holy go to sleep ♥♥♥.”</p><p>	The first four are paraphrases.  The rest are things she wrote for me.  I have a box with her sticky notes, I collected them since she began doing that.</p><p>	I wish you could see her handwriting.  So loopy and ridiculously sweet.  If you are curious and when you read this you still have my things Katherine's notes are in my drawer.  Mary knows which one, it's the one with the key.  I will leave her a copy of the key along with this letter (well, at this point 'essay about our lives' seems more accurate).  As a matter of fact I encourage you to look through that drawer.</p><p>	Your auntie wrote you sticky notes too.  She bought purple ones specifically for you so you could see them at a glance before you knew how to read.  They always made you giggle.</p><p>	I firmly believe no words can do justice to how bright Katherine was.  I could go into minute detail about her smiles, how she sank into people's side, how she went out of her way to make sure nobody forgot even for a second that they were loved, important, valuable and needed.</p><p>	To make sure nobody ever felt as miserable as she did.</p><p>	It seemed by all accounts that she was doing so much better by the time we found out it was far from the case.  Her smiles were so genuine and her laughter so hearty.  She slowly began being more spontaneous.  One day she came back home one day with six keychains.  They were gaudy and terrible, but Jane pointed out something I hadn't considered when I told her I thought they were ugly.</p><p>	“They're friendship keychains.  See this part here?  Each one has a different coloured one and when you put all six together they make a flower.  Kitty doesn't have friends, love.  I think she's trying to act her age for once.”</p><p>	In case you are wondering, yes, I still have the wretched thing.  It has kept all my keys together since.  It may be so bizarrely coloured it looks like it mugged an unsuspecting neon sign and left it in a scale of greys, but it means Katherine saw me as a friend.</p><p>	But all the light she gave off, the way she brightened our lives, was but an illusion.  Think of it like holding a flashlight in a dark room.  Everything from the flashlight forwards is well lit; but everything behind it remains covered in shadows.  Katherine made an effort to make our lives wonderful, to appear happy and perky, but on the inside she held chains we did not see.  Chains that bound her to the past as if to the depths of a lake.  While she appeared bubbly and bright her mind was pitch black with pain and confusion.</p><p>	Two drastically different versions of the same person, the one she gave off and the one she was.  A brilliant actress playing a happy role.  It was a matter of time before the curtain fell.</p><p>	But at least understand that in that hospital courtyard with the sun hanging highest in the sky in an already overwhelming situation processing that we had all been fooled by our most vulnerable family member came entirely out of left field.  There was no way the same Katherine who stopped to take pictures of flowers instead of plucking them was aching so deeply.  Not the same sweet girl who brought back home rocks for Anne's collection.  Not the same precious little one who spent an afternoon painting the flower pot for the succulent Lina had given her in every colour imaginable.</p><p>	Not my beloved kitten who curled up with me to read books.  Not the little gremlin who stole everyone's clothes because she liked being reminded of us.</p><p>	Not the headstrong kid who had single handedly brought everyone together with kindness and determination alone.  Not my Katherine.</p><p>	I think I understood long before I wanted to admit.  I think as Lina whispered reassurances to Anne while she herself was crying I had already finished the puzzle.  But I did not wish to understand.  Remaining ignorant hurt less.  I made an effort to reminisce the good times.  How she tucked her hair behind her ears when she was focused, her thankful hugs when I helped her with her summer homework.  Those bright moments kept the pain at bay, if only for another minute.  </p><p>	I did not want to confront reality.  Not if it meant that everything I thought about my beloved Kitty was a lie.  That she was not progressing, that she was not feeling better.  That she had felt the need to manifest the wounds she hid from the world in such a manner nobody could miss them.  </p><p>	What did she do behind closed doors?  What did she think, what memories and ideas tormented her so deeply?</p><p>	Why had the person who had helped everyone been left to drown?  Anne was right.  How was it possible that nobody had noticed?  I refused to acknowledge my thoughts as more than a theory.  I told myself over and over it simply could not be.</p><p>	After all Anne was not speaking clearly.  She was hard to understand through her sobs.  Obviously she was just afraid for her baby cousin.  Yes, that had to be it.  It had to be that because if it wasn't then Katherine had been hurting for longer than I thought.  Under her pretty smiles and goofy personality she had piled up so much pain it had made her crash.  And if that was the case I was a terrible person for not having seen it.  For having taken the hand she so generously offered me even after I was terrible to her and not having been able to reciprocate.</p><p>	I could not hide from the truth forever, obviously.  I did reach a point where the lies I had fabricated for the sake of my sanity slipped away and released the ugly truth.  But that was when we got home a while later.  I was not willing to let go of my plastic comfort so soon.</p><p>	Auntie Kitty was bright and dazzling like fireworks, Mae.  And exactly like them she burnt out.  That fact hurt too much.  It still does.</p><p>	Anne would stay with Katherine through the day, in case she woke up.  Anna and Lina would take turns at night and allowed no arguments.  Anne had to recover, I did not fair well in hospitals and someone had to keep both of us in check.  Annie and I already had a history of forcing ourselves to go to or remain in hospitals even when we were in no fit state to do so.</p><p>	Shortly after Anne went back in Janey and Anna walked out.  Jane was still crying, trying hard to pretend she was not but failing miserably.  Anna had the same haunting hollow stare Katherine did when someone hurt her.  I think the pain Anna felt was larger than what tears could provide an outlet for.  In all honesty, I believe nothing could have been a proper outlet.  It wasn't that she was detached from her feelings, like Katherine, but it looked the same on the outside.</p><p>	Then again, her little one had been writhing in agony before her and she hadn't realized.  I understand how that hurts.</p><p>	I have not explained my relationship with your auntie much, Mae, other than hinting at calling her my step daughter a bit earlier.  In that same conversation, when she asked if that meant I would be okay with her calling me her step mother (even if she never did), I proposed we drop the “step” altogether if she was comfortable.  She agreed, despite nothing ever coming of it.</p><p>	I did not ask if she would like to be my step daughter out of obligation to Anna.  I genuinely felt that way.  The same way I feel towards Lizzie and Eddie.  When I talk about them I say they are legally unrelated to me; but that emotionally they are my children in every sense you are my daughter.</p><p>	I felt the same for my other step children, too.  My second husband's kids in my first life.  And that affection was the exact one I felt towards your auntie.  That I still feel.  The only reason I refrain so hard from calling her your sister or my girl is because she made it more than clear through her actions that being open about it made her uneasy.</p><p>	Just because she felt that way towards me did not mean she wanted to broadcast her affection to the world.  She never did let go of her fear of showing just how deeply she cared.  Well, that and that her feelings towards all of us save your mother were always conflicting; but again I will elaborate on that later.</p><p>	Of that cursed day in which everything came undone I remember snippets.  Too many things were happening, too much pain radiated our house.  Jane sought refuge in Lina as soon as we returned.  Anna went to sleep it off, insisting she had to be well rested for the night.</p><p>	As for myself as soon as I closed my bedroom door the dam I had built around my emotions crumbled.  It was not a pretty meltdown, none of them are, and I would much rather not describe it and instead skip to the part where I realized I was doing the same thing Katherine had.  Hiding away when I was hurting instead of seeking help.  As much as it felt as if I deserved no comfort that must have been Katherine's mindset as well; and in turn her actions harmed everyone around her.  I would not do the same.  As such I joined Janey and Lina.  They were in Lina's room watching something.  What it was is unimportant, nobody was paying attention.  </p><p>	You see, as much as the shock that Katherine had been hurting herself eclipsed the words that had been spoken in the restaurant, it did not magically make us forget.  Nasty things had been said about every queen except myself, but also more than enough about Katherine's first life had been revealed.  They all knew she'd not had it easy, judging by the traumatized wreck we were reincarnated with, but learning its full extent was particularly brutal.  I believe I was the only one that day whose pain and confusion came solely from the crushing news that we had let our kitten drown in plain sight.  Everyone else's mind was floundering between whichever uneducated comments had been made about them and the gut-twisting reveal of the events that had scarred our youngest.</p><p>	It was overwhelmingly nauseating back then and I cannot say it has gotten any better with time.  By the time it became public knowledge I already knew, but the others had to work through the revoltingness of it from the start.</p><p>	It must have been worse for them, too.  The boys had said enough to give a clear picture, but not a detailed one.  By no means am I saying the details make it any better; but in a sense they do make it less unsettling.  I can only begin to imagine how many conjectures were forming in everyone else's minds that day when their thoughts drifted to that conversation.  </p><p>	While theorizing about how a loved one was hurt can be maddening I must say in this particular case knowing the specifics made it worse.  I do not think anybody can help imagining how someone they care so fiercely about was taken advantage of.  It is not a conscious process, but as humans we are drawn to filling in the blanks of any given situation.  Whether we want to or not our minds are bound to wander no matter how strongly we try to keep them off that path.</p><p>	Despite the overwhelming amount of hurt and confusion flooding our house that day I believe your mother was affected the most violently.  She had been with Katherine in court those days.  She had gone to visit several times.  It was bad enough that she hadn't noticed anything in this life, but back then?  How had she attributed the weariness and exhaustion of Katherine's young expression to being queen alone?  Not that it was an easy feat, of course; that much is obvious.  But if I know your mother she still feels responsible to this day for not having noticed anything.  For having dismissed the charges against her as rumors in the same manner the charges against Anne had been.</p><p>	Speaking of your auntie, there is no more misery I can describe regarding what  happened in our house.  To summarize: we were all devastated.  In the hospital Anne stayed with Katherine.  She talked to her until her throat got raw.  A nurse had told her unconscious people can still hear their loved ones and if that was the case your auntie wasn't about to let Kitty feel lonely for an instant.</p><p>	The words she had for Katherine she never disclosed.  The only thing we know from those hours she spent by Kitty's side is that, when Kitty woke up, she did so screaming in pain.  She had to be administered another painkiller.  It lulled her into a fitful rest until the early hours of the morning long after Annie left.</p><p>	Lina did say at some point later that when she and Anna took over Anne's shift Anne looked like she had marched through hell and back.  She collapsed into Anna and Lina, pulling both of them close, and asked them two things.  To make sure Kitty wasn't alone, that she knew we were all waiting for her; and to please take care.  That they had dinner and took breaks.</p><p>	I admit that letting both the people who struggled the most with eating out of our sight after a particularly bad day was nerve wracking.  Then again, neither of them accepted another arrangement: Anne had to rest, I was not a viable option and Jane collapsed very easily under stress.  She had had the most visibly visceral reaction to the news, she needed some distance from the issue.  At least until we brought Katherine back and it became inescapable.</p><p>	After Anna and Lina left I remained with Jane.  I have described how warm a presence she was enough for you to know just being with around her was soothing.  I hope she found the same comfort in me, that I was not using her as a heater and not giving anything in return.  She always did say she enjoyed my company, so I must take her word for it.</p><p>	I hadn't wanted to be touched for a long time after my meltdown.  My relationship with physical contact can be rather chaotic, hence why I still have a separate bedroom for nights in which I cannot stand to share a bed with anyone.  Still, when the front door unlocked and we heard Anne storm inside my aversion towards touch had ebbed away and I was fully reveling in Jane's side.</p><p>	She was hug-shaped Mae.  If love had a physical appearance it would be hers.</p><p>	Anne did not come with us or even announce herself.  Her footsteps did not go up to the attic, but rather stopped somewhere on our floor.  Jane and I gave her some time, but after a while we grew concerned and went to investigate.</p><p>	Of course, Anne was in Katherine's room.  She was holding one of the many pillows on her bed, sitting on the floor.  She had so many questions.  Why Katherine had gone so far, why she'd felt she couldn't ask for help, how nobody had noticed, if she was a bad cousin...  Until she had no words left to say and she just curled up between Jane and I.</p><p>	Things were equally silent when we prepared dinner.  We called Lina and Anna, who for our comfort sent us a picture of their dinner in the hospital's restaurant.  After that, though, there wasn't much left to be said.  We could cycle over the same queries endlessly if so desired, but we were too tired and we knew we would find no satisfying conclusion.  </p><p>	The only person who could tell us was in a hospital bed with a mild concussion, passed out on pain killers.</p><p>	Despite my exhaustion sleep would not come get me.  Jane offered I stay with her and Anne that night.  While tempting, I feared such long term contact in a cramped bed would prove overwhelming.  Besides, I was already familiar with that breed of insomnia.  I would not be able to drift into rest until I emptied my head of all the words that fluttered in it.  Talking would do me no good, unlike it had Anne, because my words were directed to the one person I could not speak to.</p><p>	The letter I wrote for Katherine was the longest one I have ever written (I can no longer consider this a letter, my girl.  Not when we are 173 pages into it.  This is a memoir).  I vented a lot of feelings through my keyboard that night.  Emotions that had been sizzling under the numbness and pain that came to life with the soothing clicking of the keys.</p><p>	I was terribly angry at Katherine.  Outright irate.  She had not come to us.  The person who had made a family out of us had not practiced what she preached.  How dare she hurt herself?  How could she do such a thing?</p><p>	But as searing as that rage was it was stifled by guilt.  As I mentioned earlier, four of her scars were words.  While at the time I did not understand three of them, one was painfully clear.  It was a word I had hurled her ways multiple times after waking up.  </p><p>	I guess eventually it left its mark.</p><p>	I believe I wrote the word “sorry” in that letter more times than I have ever used it in my life afterwards.  No apology seemed enough.  I had collaborated to her undoing.  I had kicked a fallen tree.   And what had I gotten in return?  Her friendship, kindness and her affection. </p><p>	How was that fair?  Why did she contemplate me with warm smiles and not sheer disgust?  Why did she look my way and think there was something worthwhile there?</p><p>	And still, selfish as it may be, I wanted nothing but to hold her close.  To see her safe and sound, sit down with her and the rest to have a long conversation.  I wanted to feel her breathing beside me; I had gotten so used to her presence it was obvious something was missing even if we rarely ever shared a room at night.</p><p>	If I recall correctly I did not realize I was crying until I printed the letter out in its ten page glory.  Bitter tears that held too many emotions within them.  Bitter as the words I had laid out for her.  Although at least those were laced with a heaping load of love and encouragement.</p><p>	It didn't take long to love Katherine.  Really, she was ridiculously easy to bond with, to get used to.  Her absence hurt.  </p><p>	Is our cat still alive?  I may not be fond of the little beast when he goes feral and jumps on me when I least expect it, but know I do love him.  Do you know the soft, warm feeling when he curls up on you for hours, purring and kneading, and then he leaps off and leaves a cold spot where he was sat?  </p><p>	That is the most similar comparison I can come up with this.  Being without Katherine was that cold sensation.  That longing for the creature who used to be beside you.</p><p>	I went to sleep shortly before sunrise.  From what I was told, it wasn't long until Katherine woke up.  Anna and Lina had spent the night much like Lina and Jane had when Anna had been in a hospital bed.  It was a proven tactic that we would continue to use.</p><p>	When your auntie awoke she still had a throbbing headache and was very much disoriented.  From what she told us later she wasn't sure where she was.  She looked around, trying to piece it together.  Because of her headache she touched her forehead gingerly and then felt the gauze around it.</p><p>	Gauze?  At first it confused her.  Had she hurt herself?</p><p>	And then it all came crashing like a tidal wave.  A wave that tore her down and brought with it the worst episode of Katherine's second life.  Her secret had become public knowledge.</p><p>	She felt terribly exposed.</p><p>	She was alone in the room.  It was Lina's turn to be outside and Anna had taken a short bathroom break.  Then again, Katherine did not know that.  As her mind whirred through the day's events finding herself alone in a hospital room lead her to a simple conclusion: that we all hated her.  We had found out “what she truly was”, that most our misfortunes were “her fault”, and hence saw her with the same spiting hatred she regarded herself.</p><p>	Of course we had left her to rot.  What would come next?  Anna was not her mother or anything, she could always return Katherine to the foster system and forget about her.  And if she did who would care?</p><p>	Who could be fond of a liar like herself?  Of a bad person?  We were all so good, she had tainted us with her presence alone.  How could we not be disgusted by her?</p><p>	She cried actual tears, but soon they dissolved into her usual dry sobs.  Yes, being alone would hurt.  Waking up in some forgotten foster home would hurt.  But was it not what she deserved?  Had she not earned it by being revolting human waste and not even having the decency to be honest about it?  No, she had no right to weep.  This was her punishment for her sinful existence.</p><p>	Her negative spiral caused her head to throb harder, but thankfully it was interrupted soon.  When Anna returned she was overjoyed to see Katherine awake.  That made no sense to your auntie.  Why would Anna face her fear of hospitals for her?  Was it for legal reasons?  No, that would not explain that she was happy to see her.  Hence there was only one logical conclusion: it wasn't Anna.  It was a figment of Katherine's imagination showing her nothing more than what she desperately wished to see.  Because of course, in her opinion it was impossible that any of us could still love her after learning that everything was her fault.</p><p>	She said as much, trying to dispel the so-called illusion.  Your mother was very concerned, but did not panic.  She had been told Katherine would be unlike herself for some time, so she limited herself to calling the nurse.  When Katherine insisted she was convinced Anna was a projection of her mind the nurse gave her another sedative.  She told Anna everything was normal and that as bad as it looked Katherine was simply dazed.</p><p>	That managed to calm your mother for a few hours, until Katherine woke up again and, following examination by her doctor, was discharged.  She still insisted that neither Anna nor Lina could be real.  If they were they would hate her for being terms I refuse to use for my Katherine.  As much as they had been informed that confusion, headaches and hypersensitivity to sound and light would be normal over the course of around ten days, they were very worried.</p><p>	Once again Katherine sat in the middle in the taxi.  She looked from Lina to Anna pensively until your mother asked what was wrong.  Katherine grabbed both their hands and rested her head against Anna's shoulder.</p><p>	“I know it's gross and selfish of me to still want you to love me, but I'm scared of being alone.  If this is all happening in my head can it go on a little bit longer?  Please?”</p><p>	That was but the prelude of what was to come.  The pain and hesitation in her voice were enough to make Lina weep once more as Anna pressed a kiss into Katherine's hair and promised her she was not imagining anything.  That she was loved, that we all cared about her.</p><p>	Katherine just gave her a blank stare.  “That makes no sense.”</p><p>	She could not accept that she was the only person who hated her.  That to the rest of us she was invaluably precious.</p><p>	When she got home we had already been instructed to keep the lights low, the blinds down and be quiet.  Once Lina texted that they were on their way back Anne, Jane and I went to the living room.  We wanted to be there for her from the moment the door opened.  We would not leave any room for hesitation that we cared.</p><p>	Myself especially.  The piercing way she'd looked at me at the restaurant and apologized as if those ridiculous school boys were right and my suffering was her fault had haunted me in my sleep.  I needed her to know I did not hold her accountable for anything.</p><p>	The person who walked back into our house that morning was a far cry from the girl that had just begun to let herself be loved.  When she saw Jane tear up again, when Anne asked her if she could hug her, Katherine's face remained neutral.</p><p>	Even when I told her I was glad she was alright, that I was happy to see her.  She just had this glazed expression.  She was legitimately convinced it was all in her head.  To her credit, though, the aftermath of a concussion can feel surreal.</p><p>	“Now I'm sure this isn't happening” she said, looking at Anne and I.  “You two should hate me the most.”</p><p>	She said it so naturally, like it were the most normal idea to have.  As if it were common sense.</p><p>	I'm sorry Mae.  Words fail me in this case.  No matter how much I try twisting them together to get the feeling across I cannot describe how helpless it felt to see her be convinced there was nothing to like about her.</p><p>	Was that how she had really been feeling under her bright exterior?  And if so for how long?  It was maddening, my girl.  </p><p>	The worst part was that we could not address her twisted thought process then and there.  She needed to rest, she had terrible migraines and stress would just make them worse.  She walked by us without as much as giving us a second glance, caught up in the idea that the only circumstances under which we could care about her were fictional ones.</p><p>	As Anna helped her up stairs the rest of us stood where we were.  There was nothing to say in that situation, nothing that would bring us any respite.  All that was left to do was wait and slowly we did our best to return to our daily activities.  To ignore the unease that was pawing at us.</p><p>	We had to wait for eight days before we could finally speak to her.  Few weeks have felt longer and more draining than that one.  The first day she came back home we soon gave up on trying to keep whichever sense of normalcy we'd attempted to achieve.  The five of us sat together after dinner and had a long conversation that went in circles and accomplished nothing but stressing everybody out.  Why she was so certain we hated her, what exactly was “her fault” as she said, why she'd done that to herself...</p><p>	Pointless waste of energy.  The only thing we cleared up was that it was probably best to chalk her behaviour up to post-concussive delusions.  That as the days went by and she felt better her grip on reality would tighten and we would be able to have a long chat with her and let her know without a sliver of a misunderstanding that we loved her no matter what, and that she could count on us for everything.</p><p>	But the days snailed by and Katherine did indeed get better.  She could handle sunlight, listen to music a bit louder and needed less and less painkillers.  She got stopped getting dizzy as often and in almost every aspect she was making a spectacular recovery.</p><p>	The solid feeling that we should all despise her did not fizzle into nothingness like the rest of her symptoms.  For a few days we entertained the fantasy that she was taking longer to recover from that than everything else; but come the sixth day it was unavoidable: the conviction that she should be hated had never been a delusion.  We were long past the point in which she referred to us as imaginary and she still asked “what our plans were”.  “Why we were being so kind”, “why we were wasting time and energy on her”.  “The cat was out of the bag, we all knew: why keep the charade going?”</p><p>	It was rather obvious we needed to have that conversation with her soon, that she was suffocating in agony, but those eight days had not been particularly easy for us, either.  Misery loves company, and hence we were all going through our own brands of trauma.</p><p>	As I mentioned earlier, those ignorant boys had opened up wounds that were barely starting to heal.  Anna was eating, but concerningly little, once again reminded of the abuse she had suffered at court.  Lina, reminded of her “failure”, was also reminded of all the children she lost.  Of the love she had for each of them turning to fire in her heart when they died.  Curious about her only surviving daughter and eager to ward off the grief for the tiny caskets she had laid to rest Lina dug up the courage to research Mary.  Granted, she disliked what she found and was plunged into another bout of debilitating anxiety and heart ache.  Both literal and figurative.</p><p>	In case it wasn't hard enough to try comforting Anna and Lina to the best of our abilities, Jane also decided she had had enough of imagining her son's life.  Had she not gone down in history as “the one who had the son”?  She was tired of everyone, even teenagers with about as much knowledge on history than astrophysics, knowing more about her Eddie than she did.  </p><p>	So the number of grieving mothers in our household naturally went up to two.  </p><p>	Anne, on her end, was wracked by night terrors and refused to see anyone during the day.  Since irony knows no bounds, as you know, your auntie's new body has six fingers on one hand.  What before, after therapy, she had managed to at last see as an interesting quirk of her anatomy, once again became a painful reminder of how her life came to an end.  Of how an entire country had hated her and her own family had sold her and her brother to save their skins.</p><p>	As for myself, nothing bad had been said about me.  Those children's conversation had not reminded me of anything.  And still the past snuck up on me because it was haunting every corner of our house.  Katherine, Anne and your mother were stuck in the horrors of their first lives while Lina and Jane were mourning their children.  Our house felt more like XVIth century England than it had even on the day we woke up.</p><p>	And of course, that made me think of you.  I have not mentioned you thus far because I am rather uncomfortable talking about myself and would rather do that when I inevitably have to discuss my own downfall.  However I would hate for you to think that you meant nothing to me since I never got to meet you.</p><p>	I thought about you all the time.  I some times wrote letters to you.  You can find them on my computer, if you'd like.  I wondered what you had looked like, what your hair felt like, what you smelled like, how your voice sounded, what your first word had been, when you'd learnt to walk, who you had become...</p><p>	If you ever missed me.</p><p>	But try as I may I could never bring myself to type your name into a search bar.  I could stare at the blinking cursor for minutes before giving up and moving onto something different.  The fear that I would find something devastating had happened to you as it had to Lizzie under Thomas' custody made me sick.  I could not endure the pain, and so for the longest time I neglected looking you up.  I told myself that whichever life you had lived dwelling on it would not help either of us and prayed for your forgiveness every night.  That you could forgive me for being a coward who could not bear to learn about you.</p><p>	I thought about you every day, my girl.  I would see a flower and wonder what your favourite flower had been, hear a bird sing and wondered what pets you had kept.  I'd see little girls and ask myself if you had looked anything like them.</p><p>	I looked for bits of you in everything around me.  I was surrounded by you constantly.  In the rustle of the wind, in the laughter of children in the park, in the sunset, in the colours of the sky...  </p><p>	But still I refrained.  For a while, at least.</p><p>	During those eight days the urge to find out what fate had befallen you increased tenfold.  But Mae...  Somebody had to keep her wits about her.  Somebody had to make sure Anna ate something.  Someone had to sit with Lina and Jane and listen to them talk about their conflicting feelings about their children and their grief; respectively.  Someone had to bring dinner to the attic for Anne and give Katherine her medication on time.</p><p>	It was exhausting.  I believe I spent at least half of those days non-verbal and bordering on sensory overload every time the smallest thing went wrong.  And by the catastrophe I have just described you can imagine that a lot of things were flying off the handle.</p><p>	They all did their best to support each other, though.  Lina would often wake Annie up when she screamed at night.  Jane used her stress baking to make Anna's favourite cookies to be sure she ate anything.  When Anne joined us at meals she supplied Janey with all she knew about Edward from researching Lizzie.  Anna sat with Lina in the porch for hours on end telling her stories about Mary, the happy ones, reassuring her that Lina had raised a wonderful young girl who knew her mother loved her.</p><p>	And of course they were worried about Kitty still.  I was as well, despite the exhaustion and permanent frustration.  It was just a mess: everyone was emotionally unavailable at the same time in the same moment in which Katherine needed everyone most.</p><p>	Some times your best isn't enough, though.  And as much as the others were trying to help each other and care for Katherine and me they were in no state of mind to do everything.  By working through their own feelings they were already overloaded.</p><p>	Still, by the time the eighth day after Katherine's hospitalization came, things were finally starting to look a little better.  Annie had left her room for more than meals.  Lina managed to crack a smile, Anna had had more than breakfast.  Jane was by far the saddest that day, so we put on a movie that she chose and watched it in silence.  She was cuddled up between Anne and Lina.</p><p>	It was half way through that movie that Katherine came downstairs and the situation inescapably got out of hand.  Because in those eight days in which tending to everyone's pain and needs became increasingly taxing an uglier storm had been brewing in Katherine's mind.  </p><p>	How do you think it made her feel to be barely visited by anyone?  That when one of us did go see her our façades of wellness were see through as clear glass?  It made her believe that she was correct, we did hate her.  Why if not would visits be so few and far between?  Why would we be tense if not?</p><p>	Which simply made her ask herself what was the purpose.  If it was so blatantly obvious that we were repelled by her why were we forcing ourselves to deal with her?  Perhaps it was out of pity and Anna was already getting the papers ready to dispose of her?</p><p>	Or not.  That would make no sense.  We should not have pity for the one person who had ruined everyone's lives.  For the brainless girl who had forced me to be queen, put Lizzie in Thomas' reach and gotten Lady Rochford executed.  As such her wild theories festered in silence, stewing in her mind until she came to the entirely wrong conclusion.</p><p>	She believed we were toying with her, that this was our revenge.  We would pretend to care about her only to abandon her to cause as much damage as possible.</p><p>	I have said it before but it merits reiteration: she no longer had a clear mind regarding anything long before her concussion.  The confusion and hurt she'd harboured for months in this life and years in the last had done their damage and clouded her judgement like poisonous fumes.  The light she shed into everyone's life did not exist for herself.  She only had cruelty, words thrown her way that she had internalized and embraced despite the brutality of them.</p><p>	She hated herself with the same passion she loved the world around her.</p><p>	Granted, in such a state of mind in which she genuinely believed we would do that to her, she also saw it as her fault: she had “stained us” by staying with us.  We were doing cruel things that we normally would never knew because her “perversion” seeped into those around her, infecting everything and everyone within reach.</p><p>	The only thing she every inflicted on us was unconditional love.  The only things she distilled were softness and kindness.  Every dark aspect she had she kept hidden within so well that nobody even noticed it was there.  Nothing bad ever came from her.</p><p>	I hope she knows that now.  That if she cannot hear us and she was unable to see the devastation her death left behind Janey can tell her on our behalf.  I pray they have each other, that they aren't alone.</p><p>	When your auntie decided to come downstairs despite her wobbliness and pounding headache that day it was to put an end to the act.  If it was all smoke and mirrors then she wanted us to stop.  Not because it hurt her, she did not feel like she had the right to complain about that; but rather because it would hurt us.  We were not bad or cruel people.  As much as she deserved it she feared we would have to deal with guilt.  It was fine, she knew we hated her.  We could bring it all to an end.</p><p>	You can only imagine the confusion her words caused.  What on Earth was she talking about?</p><p>	Our genuine befuddlement enraged her, believing it to be needlessly cruel now that she was making everything easy for us.  That was the beginning of one of the most stressful and heartbreaking conversations we ever engaged in as a family.  Telling Katherine we did not blame her was about as effective as speaking to a brick.  She had made up her mind that she was terrible and would not accept counterarguments.</p><p>	I was fully believed it was in part my fault.  That words suffocated in my throat made matters worse.  I forced myself to stay there but I could not articulate a single syllable.  All I could do was cry.</p><p>	That conversation did not lead us far, but it was what felt like the first step in the right direction.  It ended when feelings were so heightened they were physically manifesting and Katherine had no choice but to believe that we never meant to make her feel bad, that we loved her and that to us she was a vital member of our family.  She was forced to believe that because as much as we could fake caring about her Lina could not fake her heart palpitations.  Annie was a sobbing wreck who was not even trying to mask how anxious she was with how often she pulled on her own hair.  Jane and I could not feign the tears.  And Anna, who Katherine knew best of all, is not the most expressive of us.  If your auntie held even an inkling of a doubt about us she was certain Anna's despair was genuine.</p><p>	Still all we achieved was to calm her a little and reassure her she was loved.  She could not change her mind about herself and the hatred she felt towards that person in one conversation alone.  I wish the mediatic myth that talking about one's trauma magically fixes it, it would have been life saving if it were true.  No, that conversation barely scratched the surface of all the pus that was infecting our kitten's mind.  We did not address why, exactly, she thought of herself like that.  Why she was so certain she deserved it, or that we would hate her.  What exactly she was blaming herself for or why she had resorted to such self-destructive mechanisms.  What those words meant.</p><p>	We agreed to leave all those topics for another moment, as her soft headache had evolved into the beginning of another migraine and Anne, Lina and I could obviously do with a break.  With glassy eyes she turned around one last time before Anna helped her upstairs.</p><p>	“Even if I don't understand why...  Thank you for loving me.”</p><p>	At the moment that felt like the most reassuring outcome.  Katherine was far from alright, but at the very least she understood we loved her.  It would be a long trek for her to recover, but I recall how my heart felt lighter with that statement.  </p><p>	Anna stayed with Kitty for the rest of the day, from what we learnt later doing little more than holding casual conversation with her and making sure she was not lonely.  I retreated to my room as soon as I could, needing a breather from all the stress.  I needed time and a keyboard to sort my thoughts out.  Janey took care of Anne and Lina to the best of her ability.</p><p>	Two days later, when Anna and Katherine returned from her medical revision, the rest of us had set up a summer blanket fort for Kitty as we had for Lina and Anna.  Due to a mix-up with Katherine's appointment she and Anna arrived earlier than expected to a half finished fort.  Annie was fuming, bordering on offended at someone seeing one of her forts unfinished.  She more or less ushered Anna and Kitty into the kitchen and instructed them to wait.  Lina and her proceeded to bicker about the decorations for a while.  In all honesty I thought they were arguing seriously, but they settled their differences with a tickle fight.</p><p>	Not the most mature way to dispute how fairy lights should be strung, but I much preferred that scene to the ceaseless quarrels they'd had at the beginning.  You know what?  Lina and Anne are adorable together.  I am glad that they are friends and that they still have some time left.</p><p>	Perhaps after my passing they stop pretending Katherine and Jane's deaths were mere coincidence and use what little time they have left wisely.  If there is anything I hope for in regards to them it is that.</p><p>	But back to arguably happier topics.  While we finished up Anne and Lina's fort (she would accept nothing under the title of co-designer, much to Anne's faux dismay) Katherine and Anna waited outside.</p><p>	How it happened specifically was never told, but the important detail is that Katherine was rather high on painkillers.  Though after the ten day period, when she was feeling better, she was downgraded to less severe medication it did give her the side effect of loopiness that its stronger counterpart had not.  </p><p>	High on painkillers was the closest Katherine ever came to being fully open and spontaneous.</p><p>	In her giddy state she thanked Anna for having so much patience with her and accidentally called her “mum”.  While for Anna that moment was special beyond what words can express, when Katherine was informed of her little slip up later she would not be amused.</p><p>	Again, very complicated family dynamics on her part.  More on why, exactly, later.  That day she was still giggly and bubbly with medication.</p><p>	That summer blanket fort was a blast.  I know I have skipped two days, since Katherine broke down until the day she had her appointment.  But nothing particularly relevant transpired in them: we made an effort to check up on Katherine a bit more, we continued to work on our own issues, etc.  With time, like everything in life, bad feelings got easier to deal with.</p><p>	The only important bit is that, knowing we would go overboard with a summer blanket fort, I decided to write a letter to Katherine.  A much more lighthearted one, the poor girl deserved one good day without intense emotions.  When Anne found out she insisted everyone had to write something for her baby cousin.  </p><p>	What I did not tell Annie was that I had something else for each and every one of them as well.  We could all do with an off day after the terrible week and a half we'd had.  They could all do with a reminder that they were important.</p><p>	In part because I felt they would appreciate it, in part because I never wanted any of them to reach the depths of helplessness that Katherine had.</p><p>	When your mother and your aunties saw I had written one for each of them they somehow managed to arrange a handwritten letter for me without me noticing.  Under the guise of going to the bathroom, or the kitchen to grab some snacks, or attending a phone call all five of them found a moment to stitch a lovely letter together. </p><p>	I was unable to read it in front of them, fearing that my reaction would be underwhelming and they would feel like they'd wasted their time.  But they would have been okay with any reaction and even though after reading it I only thanked them for the time and effort it was enough for them.</p><p>	Spoken words could never have done justice to the warmth in my heart.  I love those five with all my soul.</p><p>	“We just couldn't have you do something nice for all of us and leave you without a treat, now could we?” was all Lina said when I asked why they had bothered.</p><p>	“It was Anna's idea!!” Anne said as if she would explode if she didn't share that information.  “So you should really be thanking her!!”</p><p>	As I said, the entire household was aware that I had a crush on your mother.  Except for her and myself, of course.  After we finally began dating Anne teased us to no end about how Anna choked on the soda she was drinking when I walked up to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek as thanks.  Or about how my ears turned scarlet.</p><p>	Looking back on it it is a miracle your mother and I got together on our own without the rest having to force us into an empty room with a powerpoint presentation that explained our feelings for us.  Bizarre a scenario as it may be, I firmly believe that would have saved us time.</p><p>	The concept of creating a powerpoint to explain to two people that they have a crush on each other was Jane's, by the way.  When auntie Lina finally proposed Jane suggested that they could have gotten married years prior if only the rest of us had intervened.  She was joking, of course, but the mental image of two oblivious people sitting in a dark room with a presentation titled “You Two Are In Love: An Essay Backed Up With Evidence” has never left my mind.  I find it hilarious.</p><p>	Back to August 2020, the day ended with our first ever household-wide sleepover.  It involved mattresses on the living room floor and was entirely your auntie Anne's idea.  “We all need some extra extra love today” was the only explanation she gave.  Lina pretended to simply go along with the idea to indulge her, but when asked if she would rather skip the sleepover she hit Anna with a pillow.  Playfully, of course.</p><p>	Since Anne wanted to be, as Katherine put it, “the center of affection”, who would sleep where was decided by straws.  Lina in wound up between Jane and Anne on the top row of mattresses; and Katherine was between Anna and I.</p><p>	Technically I was between Katherine and Anna; but would much rather not be trapped, so Katherine switched with me.  Anne, dismayed at not being in the center, asked Lina to swap places as well.  As much as Lina had complained about having to deal with Jane and Anne “crushing her” all night at the prospect of not being sandwiched between them she said, very seriously: “The straws make the rules, Boleyn, not me.”</p><p>	For the record when our nightly conversation droned on too much for Lina's liking, instead of asking us to keep quiet so she could sleep she quite literally pulled Annie and Jane on her.  Throwing her dignified persona out the window she said “Weren't you two supposed to give me extra love or something tonight?  Then come on, zip it.”</p><p>	Yes, your auntie is adorable.  I take no criticism on that statement no matter how much she argues the point.</p><p>	Katherine's memories of that day were sadly blurred by her medication.  The one thing she clearly held onto afterwards was a feeling.  </p><p>	“I felt safe.  There were two pairs of arms around me, but I didn't feel in danger.  I trusted you.  I felt like after 500 years, I finally had a family and a home.  I was happy.”</p><p>	That would be a perfect note to finish that chapter of our lives on.  But as I warned you before, this one had a happy ending by accident.  There were many things left to address.  That one good day was but the eye of the storm, a brief moment of tranquility before our lives were plunged into chaos once more.</p><p>	On the one hand all of us still had a lot of unsorted feelings to sift through regarding our past lives.  Lina did not forget about the things Mary had done because of one good day.  Annie was not able to silence the crowds jeering for her death.  Jane still had to come to terms with the death of her son.  Anna still hid under oversized clothes and left the house as little as possible, trying to conceal herself from the public gaze and its scorn.</p><p>	I was still drawn to you, my girl.  With every passing day the temptation to discover what had happened to you grew stronger.  I was not ready for the truth, but I was tired of the unanswered questions.</p><p>	And as for Katherine, everything for her got much worse.  We still had a conversation to hold.  She needed to tell us everything that had lead her to her breaking point so we could deconstruct it together.  </p><p>	Ironically, it was our love her that made her collapse under the pain.  Katherine had built the bones upon which we had fleshed out our relationships and love for each other.  She had never meant for the infrastructure to include her as well.  As time went by and her mind cleared more, as she grew more aware that we genuinely did know about her past, those bones turned against her and pierced her bleeding heart.</p><p>	Mae...  This is your final warning to skip to the censored summary.  If anything here made you uneasy (and that would be comprehensible enough) I ask you to reconsider reading the next section in its entirety.  Life for your auntie got worse.  So, so much worse.</p><p>	And, once again, nobody realized until it was too late.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And there we go.  Despite the myth that authors thrive off of their readers' and characters' misery (okay, only partially a myth) writing this did not spark joy.  I can't wait for next chapter to be over so i can set Katherine on a path to recovery.  But i also felt that after keeping her feelings hidden for so long they were bound to turn against her and didn't want to gloss over her section.  I hope i did a good job at finding the right balance.</p><p>As always thank you everyone for your time, i hope it was worth it.  I will see you next chapter, take care and have a lovely day</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Conversations (The Least Relevant Katherine Interlude)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi!!  I am back again with a chapter that made me suffer while writing it.  So unsurprisingly I still in fact suck at calculating chapter lengths and part 2 of The Least Relevant Katherine turned out to be longer than anticipated (+25000 words!!).  So here we have a short outtake to make it more manageable.  While the heavy stuff is for the actual chapter and not this in-between do read the CWs just in case.  Note that the redacted version is in the end of next chapter, which I will update in a minute</p><p>As always thank everyone so much for interacting with this story and I hope it is worth your time</p><p>CWs:-Night terrors (mentioned)<br/>-ASD character going through non-verbal episodes (you know the drill)<br/>-ED recovery (mentioned discomfort around food)<br/>-Grief over the loss of one's son (who technically died 500 years ago)<br/>-Referenced self harm (nothing last chapter didn't cover; assumably this should be fine if that was)<br/>-Panic attacks (referenced)<br/>-Heart palpitations and phantom pains related to them (non descript)<br/>-Mentions of Mary I of England<br/>-ASD character experiencing burnout<br/>-Sleep deprivation<br/>-ADHD character going through a non-verbal episode (mentioned)<br/>-Katherine's first life (mentioned, non descript, specific words censored)<br/>-Lady Rochford's execution and Katherine's (beheading, mentioned)<br/>-Trauma victim believing herself to be at fault for being abused<br/>-George Boleyn's and Anne's executions (briefly mentioned)<br/>-Feeling guilty for someone's death (Katherine and Lady Rochford)<br/>-Minor being gaslit and groomed (in the past, mentionedd)<br/>-Denial of having been abused by trauma victim (due to mentioned gaslighting)<br/>-Elizabeth and Thomas Seymour (mentioned)<br/>-Discovering one's brother is a child abuser (Jane about Thomas Seymour, briefly discussed)<br/>-Trying to help a trauma victim accept it was abuse and wording it in a way it sounds like you're accusing them<br/>-Mentions of medication (not actually taking it or descriptions of it)<br/>-Family of abuse survivor blaming the victim<br/>-Self-loathing from multiple characters (nothing that hasn't been done already)<br/>-Having a hard time finding a meaning in one's own life (mentioned)<br/>-Victim having a hard time accepting she is loved<br/>-Saying regretful things during panic attacks<br/>-Non descript character death (in the future, but mentioned)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>With Katherine practically recovered from her concussion and once again joining us things at home felt like they had more or less gone back to normal.  But still they had not.  They had everything but.</p><p>	Yes, Anne and Kitty could be found playing on the Switch in the living room anew, but Katherine now sat away from her cousin.  Often times Katherine would fuss with her clothes, pull her shirt down as far as it would go and stopped wearing shorts altogether.  She would bake with Jane, but recoiled if their hands touched each other while making batter, etc.  You get the point.</p><p>	Nobody wanted to talk about it.  I think we were subconsciously trying to push the conversation as far into the future as possible, but we had crossed the point of no return: we knew Katherine had taken on a dangerous coping mecahnism; if it can even be called that.  She knew we knew, making her interactions with us genuine at first, since she was starved for company, but then become forced.  Fake smiles, cringing if we as much as brushed by her accidentally...</p><p>	In short, she was trying to replicate the person she had been before we found out.  And doing a terrible job of it.  If there was one role your auntie was not up to par for was trying to act like herself.</p><p>	Happiness and any feeling she could feign rather well.  Broad grins, even fake tears.  But when she went out of her way to re-enact her own manneurisms, how she would normally play with her hair when she got nervous, or the way she had of clapping her hands together when excited, that she was atrocious at.</p><p>	A bit strange, I know.  Someone who could fool everyone into believing she was fine was unable to present as such?  Allow me to explain: Katherine could mimic generic emotions to perfection.  To an untrained eye she was bubbly and happy.</p><p>	But as I said, those were acts, fake.  In the short window of time in which she let her guard down around us we finally got to see her real self, the one she had hidden behind so many layers of fear.  Her brand of happiness was a far cry from the earlier, almost practiced demonstrations of it: her genuine smiles were not wide, but rather small and shy.  She bit her lip when she was anxious, bounced on the balls of her feet when excited...  </p><p>	I am fairly certain she wanted us to believe that she had not retreated into her shell once more; that she did not want us to feel as if she were pushing us away.  As such instead of returning to her upbeat persona she did her best to re-enact her genuine self while in a frame of mind in which she was unable to actually be authentic.  Her short smiles no longer came across as endearing, but rather sad and distant.  Biting her lip no longer conveyed anxiety, but rather a cold numbness to the world around her.</p><p>	A brilliant actress incapable of being her true self.  Trapped by masks like a mummy by wraps until she lost herself within.</p><p>	If you believe this to be a bad situation I will have you know: that was just the part pertaining to Katherine.  Everyone else was a wreck as well.</p><p>	Anna's refusal to leave the house was transparent, she did not want to be seen.  Jane's stress baking got terrible.  She hoped to bury unpleasant thoughts about Edward's untimely end under cookie dough and pancake batter, but it did not work.  At one point she went overboard and made more cupcakes than we knew what to do with.  Handing them out to our neighbours was the best solution we could come up with.</p><p>	Both because we needed to get rid of them and because the sight of so many sweets together made Anna uncomfortable.  The sugary scent that permeated the common living areas restricted her not just to the house, but to her room most days.  Of course Jane never intended to make her feel bad by making her think about food every time she stepped foot out of her room.  Of course, the guilt made Jane feel worse no matter how many times Anna reassured her it was fine.</p><p>	It really wasn't, but she understood baking was Jane's coping mechanism.  Anna was just thankful it was something as innocuous as that.</p><p>	Annie, on her end, was barely sleeping.  Her night terrors were at their peak, and seeing everyone around her, everyone who she loved, suffering made them worse.  In part because of the helplessness that came with being unable to help her baby cousin.</p><p>	In greater part, as I learnt later, because she could not assist me, either.  It was obvious I was overwhelmed by taking on the role of the caretaker, but try as she may Anne could not bring herself to function on little to no sleep and heartache.  Seeing me shut down, or go non-verbal, made her feel worse.  After all was I not notorious for barely sleeping?  How was I pushing forwards?  And why couldn't she do the same?</p><p>	A heart of gold, your auntie has.  I have a hard time understanding how the one person who is always, unfaulteringly looking after others was demonized.  Turning to historians proves pointless, as most of them have blatantly false and evil things to say about her.</p><p>	And Lina was perhaps dealing with her pain worst of all.  She was permanently anxious, on edge.  She could not unsee the nightmares she had about Mary.  About what pain had consumed the sweet child she once knew to leave behind the person she became.  What cruelty had her little girl been exposed to?</p><p>	What crimes had she committed in the name of Lina's beloved religion?  How much of that had been to feel connected to her mother again?  Could Lina have done something better to stay by her side?</p><p>	At that point we all knew going down the road of “what ifs” was a waste of time that would result in nothing but sorrow and grief.  But Lina has anxiety; regardless of what she attempts when something gets in her head she cannot stop mulling it over until either the episode eases or she has regarded it from every possible angle and she can no longer make out what she was originally inspecting.</p><p>	Which in turn translated to heart palpitations, then phantom pains, and lastly almost an early death day.  Yes, I have not mentioned it but under enough stress we have been known to have our death days early.  And then on their assigned date as well, of course.</p><p>	As you can see the ambiance and general frame of mind was not one optimal for a serious heart to heart with Katherine.  The fact that ignoring the issue could make her pain worse just made everyone more miserable: something had to be done, but it was the worst possible moment.</p><p>	As for my part I was just tired, Mae.  Downright exhausted.  I needed to regain some sense of normalcy.  As much as I do love helping the others and by no means feel burdened by them I needed to stop at least one source of the ceaseless flow of aching that was destroying our lives in its wake.</p><p>	I guess that is the reason I decided to take matters into my own hands and put a date to the conversation with Katherine.  Out of them all I needed Kitty stable the most.  The overwhelming fear that gripped my heart every time she was alone in her room or took a shower was going to kill me.  I needed to know she was aware she had a support network of people who loved her unconditionally despite the circumstances.  That she was not turning to other methods for unloading her blatantly obvious pain.</p><p>	I promise I just wanted to keep her safe.  </p><p>	That was an ominous way to put it, but I guess it is fitting.  As you have already imagined, the conversation went as badly as it possibly could.  The outcome was atrocious and nobody can convince me it wasn't at least part of the reason Katherine decided to do what she did afterwards.  </p><p>	It took me months to understand her choice was not my responsibility.  Some days I still catch myself wondering if it was.  The one thing that is crystal clear to me is that under no circumstances should I have forced that conversation to take place.  As good as my intent was when I rounded the others up and told them that despite their personal grievances Katherine needed us I should have waited.</p><p>	Or who knows?  Perhaps delaying it longer would have made Katherine feel like we did not care about her as much as we said we did and would have lead her to the same conclusion regardless.  </p><p>	Does it even matter anymore?  We buried her two years ago.  The world went dark two years ago.  </p><p>	This is what I mean when I say it isn't always easy to ignore the twisting, traitorous paths of “what ifs.”  We cannot control where our mind wanders, what possibilities it wishes to explore.  We can only force ourselves to get back on track to the best of our ability, which is what I will do now.  Apologies, my girl.  Everything that I am about to tell you is still one of the most sensitive and agonizing chapters of our lives for me.  And for the others as well.</p><p>	Be that as it may, when I told everyone that we needed to support Katherine I was met with agreement.  Attempt to put the past behind us just for a few hours to show her she was loved.  To prove we meant it when we said we sould always be there for her regardless of the circumstances.  Everyone believed that would be achievable.  An evening dedicated to Katherine.  In theory it did not seem impossible to achieve.</p><p>	Key words: “in theory.”</p><p>	Katherine was not happy about our resolution to talk to her.  Everyone needed time, we were all tired, she could wait...  But we all assumed them to be excuses from someone who comprehensibly did not wish to explain why she had hurt herself.  And in part they were, too.</p><p>	“I assumed, on a subconscious level at first, but then consciously, that if you were all so distant from me it must be because I wasn't really that important to you.  And if I wasn't then I didn't have to worry about having to deal with relationships anymore.  You could all hate me and it would hurt, but I would move on.”</p><p>	We chose an evening near the end of August, before school began.  I remember the arrangement perfectly: Anne on the couch between Jane and Lina.  I on one of the armchairs and Katherine, who walked in last of all with Anna, on the other.  Apparently she had asked Anna to stay close, so instead of taking the remaining spot on the sofa she perched on one of the armrests where Katherine sat.</p><p>	I was so nervous.  For days we had been planning how the conversation should go and how to handle it with utmost care.  I had taken time to talk to everyone and ask them what they wanted to say so I could write it down and we could ensure that no important matters went unaddressed in the heat of the moment.  I was labelled “an excessive planner” and that “the conversation should flow naturally lest Katherine believe we were staging our concern”; but I could not care less.  So many words go unsaid when strong emotions take over.  I would not let a single shred of doubt cloud my kitten's mind ever again.</p><p>	What I hadn't been expecting was to discover that I had not been the only one to say vicious things to our youngest in the first weeks upon waking up.  As much as I wanted to be cross at your aunties I could not allow myself to be.  It would be unfair, I had collaborated to her undoing every bit as they had.  The other three words Katherine had hurt herself with suddenly gained meaning.  I remember how revolting it was to put the puzzle together.  What had we made our little one believe?</p><p>	Arguably Jane and especially Annie were blameless.  Anne had spoken while enraged and did not even remember having uttered such ruthless words (Lina had to remind her for the purpose of this conversation.  Your poor auntie could not find it in her to speak for hours afterwards) and Jane had been known to say some rather violent thing she did not mean when stressed.  She was getting better at controlling it, though, and while it does not exactly excuse what she said at the very least she did not mean it.</p><p>	I wish the same could be said for Lina and I.  We uttered our vile words intently.</p><p>	There were two things I feared especially leading up to that conversation: Katherine's reaction and Anna's.  Anna knew about my suboptimal behaviour towards Kitty in part, yet had no idea about the rest's.  If you want a sneak peek, at one point she told us we did not deserve a second chance in life and that she would have been happier if she had not met us.  That Katherine would have been better off without us.</p><p>	Your mother later went back on her own words, but there was no need to.  Objectively at the time that was inherently true.  Even if we subsequently became better and became a solid, functioning family; that would be in the future.  When she said that she was not wrong.</p><p>	I believe that before I go on to explain the absolute mess of a conversation we had it would be important for you to know how Anna and Katherine's bond was doing after she was informed she had called Anna “mum”.  While they were still close as ever the situation went unaddressed.  Katherine neither confirmed nor denied having such vulnerable feelings towards Anna.  She wanted to admit to them, since Anna was the opposite of unhappy with that outcome, yet every time she tried to her mouth closed of its own accord.  It was not something she was ready for at the time.  Anna simply gave her space, sparingly referring to her as “my girl” to test the waters.</p><p>	Every time she did Katherine stiffened.  That was about as explicit a response as Anna received.  Even she, who knew Katherine best of all, did not know how to interpret that.</p><p>	Your auntie's relationship with vulnerability was comprehensibly complicated.  As much as she needed someone to take care of her for once and to stop fending for herself she did not known how to do that.  How to let someone else take the wheel and allow herself to go with it.  Due to how many times she had been taken advantage of openingly admitting that she saw Anna as a mother figure (very arguably an authority figure with control over her) was far too overwhelming.</p><p>	I say “arguably an authority figure” because I firmly believe that a parent should be there to aid and direct their child when they stray; not to become a person of power who manipulates them.  Then again, the mere prospect of that second outcome scared Katherine away from letting herself relax.  One person too many who had promised her safety and love had stabbed her in the back the second they got on her weak side.  Even though she logically knew Anna would never do such a heinous thing to her it was a nigh impossible feat to overcome.</p><p>	Another big reason for resisting so much to be anyone's daughter was because she wished to be treated like a fellow adult.  She did not want to be infantilized or put “on a different level”, so as to speak, than the rest of us.  She had had her fair share of childhood and was entirely uninterested in the concept despite by all accounts being a fourteen year-old.  While most remember their childhood with at least some form of fondness Katherine despised the mere idea of having been a child.  So many vile acts had been lumped onto her that by association alone she was repulsed by the idea.  She had no intent of “regaining her lost years”.  All she wanted was to move on and never look back.</p><p>	Obviously no such thing would have happened if she had been honest about her emotions of safety around us and especially Anna; but Katherine still thought it to be too much of a risk.  As I stated earlier, even when she agreed to the adoption as I will soon tell you about she not once accepted that she was anything but a self-reliant person who did not require anyone to take care of her.  </p><p>	Well, to be fair she did just once.  With her dying breath she admitted Anna had always been “her mum.”  Or at least that was the general interpretation of what she managed to mouth after.  You know what?  Never mind.  That is a tale for much later.  This one is already grim enough and Katherine managed to survive it.  I am getting far ahead of myself, apologies.</p><p>	I think I am genuinely unaware of the degree to which her death scarred me.  The tension of the events surrounding it coupled by losing Jane so soon after has blinded me to that part of myself.  It some times surprises me that Katherine will no longer knock on my door not because I am in denial; but because I have not yet had time to process that she is gone.  And when I do realize it it hurts.  I will not even bother explaining the feeling of loss with words.  That would be pointless, for how does one express that she feels devoid of a part of her soul?</p><p>	Truly Mae, I really am sorry for the interruption.  I am sorry my inner musings are seeping into this memoir.  The more I write about Katherine the better I can reminisce her beautiful life and her presence, but also the more tangible her death becomes.  </p><p>	I promise I will do my best to limit interruptions of the sort moving forwards.  My grief is for me to process on my own time and sadly that is a very limited resource at the moment.</p><p>	Back to that accursed conversation, it started off terribly uncomfortable.  Nobody liked being there and it was blatantly obvious.  Every word was careful and measured from all participants.  Jane requested Katherine give us her side of the story first.  That part of the conversation went about as smoothly as it could have gone.  Your auntie resisted being fully honest and began by solely admitting to having felt she needed to be punished.  She was looking at a fixed spot on the carpet and casually twirling a lock of hair between her fingers as if she were merely talking about her favourite colour.  She was so non-chalant about the issue it was disturbing.</p><p>	When we pressed, as gently as we could and in a non-judgemental way, that she had to tell us what had lead her to that conclusion everything got worse; and it just went downhill from there.  Katherine was less than thrilled about speaking of her first life.  From what I know about her she gave us a very abridged version.  About her “lovers”, as she called them.  That was the first of a laundry list of things that rubbed me the wrong way in that conversation.  Lovers?  She had been eleven to seventeen for goodness' sake.  In whose mind were those affairs?</p><p>	But I did not interrupt.  Anne was doing enough of that for all of us combined, despite her best attempts to keep her impulsiveness in check and Lina holding her hand.  As Katherine went on she continued by telling us about how there must have been something bad about her to “attract those crowds.”  Someone (probably Anne) told her in no uncertain terms that she hadn't done anything to draw anyone in, hence there was nothing wrong with her.  To which Katherine responded with her supposed blame in Lady Rochford's execution.</p><p>	That was the beginning of the end.</p><p>	The ambiance had already been significantly tense as Katherine delved deeper into her past.  A mixture of rage, grief and helplessness for the life she'd been wrenched from.  At the mention of Lady Rochford Anne lost it.  Why did her cousin feel guilty about that woman's death?  </p><p>	Anne never meant for it to come across as condescending or accusing.  After all even stressed as she was she knew perfectly well that Katherine most likely did not know about Lady Rochford's involvement in her and her brother's execution.  However Anne is not the best at conveying her intent clearly in general; least of all when strained.  To most everyone it sounded like she was blaming Katherine for feeling responsible for her Lady's death as if having cared about her were an offense to Anne.</p><p>	Katherine's neutral exterior cracked just a little.  Her back straightened in the same unnatural manner it had when she first spoke to me about Lina after waking up; a sign we would soon discover meant she felt pressured, uncomfortable or both.  Still with controlled rage she asked what problem Anne had with Lady Rochford.</p><p>	Despite our best attempts to calm her down, Anne could not relax.  She got up and paced the room every bit a caged animal.  That was the first time we saw her conflicting feelings towards Lady Rochford and part of the reason she seldom got brought up again.</p><p>	Watching the scene unfold was the equivalent of watching a horror movie in which all protagonists are incompetent fools.  Not that your aunties are by any means; but in said films you always know the worst possible thing will come and as a spectator you can do nothing but watch.  I could feel my pulse in my temples the whole time.</p><p>	And yet we somehow weathered that storm.  Katherine managed to hold an iron grip around her emotions and not lash out at her cousin; and between Lina and Anna they convinced Anne to begrudgingly take a seat again and not derail the conversation.  If Katherine felt guilty about her supposed role in her Lady's execution that was what needed to be addressed; not the woman in question's backstory and faults.</p><p>	Trying to convince Katherine that she could not be held accountable for any of that proved as effective as trying to turn on the lights during a power outage.  What stressed me out the most was that she seemed incapable of giving a straightforward answer.  Every time we asked why she believed it was her fault that adults had taken advantage of her she replied in a roundabout fashion, never getting to the point.  In all honesty I felt like quitting; I cannot take it when people refuse to give a direct reply.</p><p>	Then again she had a good reason to be shifty.  When probed enough, as kind as we were being about it, Katherine cracked a little more.  She finally admitted that “she deserved it because she should have known better.  If she'd acted her age she could have protected herself.”</p><p>	Her age?  The look of horror on everyone's faces was chilling.  Why did a girl who had been abused since childhood think she had the obligation of having known better?</p><p>	We have already gone through how manipulative people can trick vulnerable children into believing they are “older” or “mature”, and how that ideology had left dents in Katherine's mind.  As much as we tried to take those thoughts away from her we could not.  Firstly because we are not trained professionals and secondly and perhaps most importantly because your auntie got defensive.  When shown the option that maybe she had been taken advantage of she looked away.  </p><p>	In her mind it was crystal clear: if she had consented it was not abuse.  If it was not abuse then she had not been hurt.  As much as it felt like her skin were on fire she did her best to ignore the smoke and pretend it had not happened.</p><p>	Apparently denial is a normal symptom in many victims.  To us at the time it was terribly alarming and heartbreaking.</p><p>	Since the mere thought of being a child lead her to her irrational fear of being infantilized (and by proxy being perceived as “an easy mark”) and her anger was becoming visible I proposed we left it at that and moved on.  However Anne had an idea that proved to be atrocious: she asked Katherine if, in her opinion, Lizzie had been old enough to know she was being taken advantage of.</p><p>	At that the cracks in Katherine's façade widened, letting us see more.  The guilt and shame she felt for having supposedly been the reason Lizzie got hurt were almost enough to make her snap.  But your auntie was resilient, she could still take some blows.</p><p>	I like to think that if we had had the conversation in the future, when everyone was well rested and feeling better, Anne would have realized that was potentially a very insensitive thing to ask.  She was doing her best and it just was not enough.</p><p>	Katherine said that was ridiculous: Lizzie had been a child when Thomas Seymour hurt her.  Anne was hellbent on getting her point across though, and instead of backing off she reminded Katherine that she had been three years younger than Lizzie.  How come one was blameless and could not have known any better and the other was somehow a seductress who got what she desrved?</p><p>	Meanwhile Lina and Jane were lost.  What did Jane's brother have to do with Lizzie?  Jane began theorizing, her mind going a mile a minute trying to make sense of the implications.  Had her brother...?  No, it couldn't be.  It simply could not.  He was terrible, yes, but he got his kicks out of manipulating adults, right?</p><p>	...She hadn't left her Eddie with a child abuser, right...?</p><p>	Katherine could not give any other reply than the one she had already repeated ad naseum: she was smart enough to know better.  Which in turn angered Anne because the implication was that her Lizzie was unintelligent; which is far from the truth.  Granted Katherine never meant to say that.  Her logic was flawed and at last it was starting to show.  I thought that was a good thing, I really did.  While Anne's way of handling the situation had been tactless it gave me a chance to poke holes in Katherine's reasoning and show her how little water her claims held.</p><p>	Of course that was far from what happened, but for a solid five minutes I was hopeful.  Even as Katherine apologized, expressing how smart she knew Lizzie to be; and Anne apologized as well for having snapped, I thought something good could come from that.  They were both very obviously distraught and emotional, but it was the only opportunity I had seen in the at least hour and a half we had been talking for.</p><p>	Seeing as when forced to back up her thought process Katherine was unable to I decided to take my shot.  If we had already ruled out that she was old or smart enough, then how could she have known any better?  How could it be her fault?</p><p>	Or at least that was what I wanted to say, really.  Jane, in a misguided attempt to be helpful and very flighty from her musings about Eddie and her brother, interrupted me by saying that the only way Katherine could feel any form of responsibility were if she had tried actively seducing any of those men.  And even still it would be abuse; but only then could Katherine reasonably feel as if she had been somewhat involved in her own torment.</p><p>	The mere mention of her having enticed them almost made Katherine break down.  She was clearly falling apart, but she was tied together sturdily.  Still her voice wavered, she hugged herself and her tone turned poisonous with anger.  She explained how she had loved them all at first; only to hate them with every fiber of her being later.  She believed their words of love when they were so gracefully put before her, but she had never lifted a finger to willingly attract them.  The only thing, in her words, that had lead them to her was whatever was nestled within her that made her so evil.</p><p>	We all scorned Jane for her genius idea.  Perhaps a bit cruel and uncalled for, as she was already crying as was once she saw the devastating blow her well-intended words had dealt Katherine, but all I can say is tensions were high.  Nobody copes well in such situations; or at least not flawlessly.  Jane's own method of trying to prove Katherine could not be held accountable was horrendously poorly worded and questionable at the very best, so I do not think she held it against us when we told her off.</p><p>	Again I tried stating my question, and though I finished Katherine was interrupted by Lina next.  As the conversation got progressively more unsettling Lina's heart palpitations were getting worse.  She had already anticipated this and was on her beta blockers, but for the situation at hand they were a bit underwhelming.  Her chest was tightening and she feared it would lead to another episode of phantom pains.  Thinking those would be a burden to everyone else and especially Katherine, Lina said what she hoped would make the conversation end sooner:</p><p>	“What did your family have to say about it?  Surely there was at least one of them you got along with who told you it wasn't your fault?”</p><p>	The expected outcome was: “oh yes, X family member I trusted tried to keep me safe but couldn't but they always had my back”; to which then Lina would have said: “Then trust X's judgement if you cannot trust your own; at least until you can trust ours.”  Of course such a thing would never happen because I cannot stress enough how little Katherine's family deserved her.</p><p>	Lina got the same expression of instant regret that our cat got when he got wet playing with the tap last week.  Instead of talking wonders about her family Katherine froze as if someone had hit a pause button.  After several deep breaths she gave a wry smile and a humorless chuckle.</p><p>	“Well they thought I was a ---, so yeah.”</p><p>	If you think “slut” and “common harlot” are bad words to define a person (and they are, there is no excuse for using them) the Howards managed to take their sexist lexicon up a notch.  I believe I understand where Katherine got her very creative profanity from and it is one of those things I wish I never knew.</p><p>	How could her father, her step grandmother, her uncle, anyone, say such things about her?  She was a blessing, a special child and even if she hadn't been!  Even if she had been the dullest, most bland girl ever, she was part of their family, one of their own.  How could they?</p><p>	To top it all off, we had managed to remind Katherine that nobody had truly loved her.  The exact opposite of what she needed.</p><p>	And still as the situation around me fell apart faster than Lina was apologizing I needed to find a way to get through to Katherine.  With Lina's unfortunate question she crumbled a little more.  Her breathing quickened, her fingers tensed around the hem of her shirt, pulling it down obsessively as if there were still a secret to hide beneath it.  As if we did not already know what she had done to herself.  </p><p>	I was not going to let her shatter.  Whatever her breaking point had in store I knew nobody was equipped to handle, not even herself.  I regretted the conversation many times, but it was too late.  All I could do was try pulling something positive from it.<br/>	I got an idea.  My throat was tightening around the words as if it wanted to keep them in, but I powered through it because nobody else could.  I still look back in awe at that moment, despite it all, for managing to get the words out.  A feat I have not been able to repeat many times afterwards.</p><p>	Adrenaline is a hell of a drug.</p><p>	I asked Katherine if her family hadn't loved her and protected her how she was supposed to know what those revolting excuses of human waste offered her was not love.  After all, I knew I did not love my first husband because I knew what it felt like to love and be loved.  Our bond was not that close.  By comparison I was certain I loved my second husband and that he loved me back because I knew what love looked like.  I knew it was safe and warm, that it was not meant to fill a person with dread.  There was nothing manipulative or exploitative about love.  Surely if Katherine hadn't had a healthy example of it it must have been at least harder for her to see the difference at a glance?  And it wasn't as much her attracting bad crowds as it was people taking advantage of her lack of experience?</p><p>	That seemed to do the trick.  At long last, after so many stumbles, I left her wordless.  The only answer she could provide was “I don't know”; which was a far cry from her incessant self-deprecating responses earlier.</p><p>	The weight lifted a little.  However I had enough sensitivity, as the person who had the list of everything to discuss, to move on.  Realistically Katherine would not change her mindset in one single day.  That she had been unable to counter my point though was a start.  An irrefutable argument that even her warped perception could not logically deconstruct.</p><p>	Once again it filled me with hope.  All I needed do was continue watering that seed I'd planted in the upcoming days.  But then and there it was time to wrap everything up and move on with our days to the best of our ability.</p><p>	Despite the chaos we had covered most everything.  All that was left was the scariest part yet: the apologies.  Lina, Anne, Jane and I had to make it clear that none of the things we had told her were warranted, acceptable or excusable.  After that we would give it a rest; we could all do with one.  Just as soon as Katherine knew for sure that whichever barriers she perceived to be between us were not there.  That to us she was not to blame, she had been a victim, she was not irrelevant and her life was precious.  Only that, and it would be the end.</p><p>	I wish I had decided to leave it for another day as well.  It did far more harm than good in the end.  I was already close to burnout; the others were not doing much better between their individual problems and Katherine's seething self-loathing; and she herself was about to crash.</p><p>	Regardless, I thought continuing to be the best course of action, so I started myself.      Stated like that it sounds like an act of bravery; but do keep in mind that the others had long ago lost track of the original bullet points I had written down.  I was simply streering the conversation as the person with the list.  I guess I was right and there were things that were bound to be forgotten without it.</p><p>	And who knows?  That could have been for the better.  Yet again, irrelevant.</p><p>	When I finished, largely reiterating what I had said to her in the letter I gave her during the pancake incident, it is accurate to say there was a room full of people who were not very fond of me.  Save for Katherine herself, of course, who seemed to still to not care despite doubting that any of it had been her fault.  She just shrugged and had the gaule of smiling at me.</p><p>	“You had every right to be angry.  If you hadn't been queen a lot of bad things wouldn't've happened; so it's alright.”</p><p>	That statement sparked the first sign of distress from Anna, noticeable even to me.  Because she was full on crying.  Doing her best to hide it, but unable to.  Her expression was not of sadness, but of rage.  Seething ire.</p><p>	“You know, every time one of you opened your mouth I had to tell myself that throttling you would not make the situation any better and that you were sorry after all.”</p><p>	The part that quote from your mother left out, as she was trying to make light of it after tensions eased when she said it, was that she enjoyed our regret.  That, to my knowledge, she only told me after we began dating.  It was one of those things that riddled her with guilt and kept her awake at night.  The twisted satisfaction of seeing those who had hurt Katherine aching as well made her feel there was some sort of justice being served.  Granted when she calmed down she felt like a monster and again it came back to haunt her for years on end because your mother is not in any capacity cruel, but that was her thought process at the time.</p><p>	Just providing context for the catastrophe that happened next.</p><p>	After me, Anne took a deep breath and told Katherine that there had been no difference between their beheadings if they were to disregard the executioner's dexterity.  She did not think that Katherine had gotten “what was coming her way” and admitted that she did not recall having said such a false thing.</p><p>	Again Katherine flipped the conversation around to comfort Anne instead of accepting the apology.  What we now know was Katherine fighting tooth and nail to avoid seeing herself as a victim at the moment was just as befuddling as it sounds.</p><p>	How she happened to find peace in finding herself to be accountable is not something I understand.  Especially taking into consideration that her fear of being perceived as a simple child kind of implies that to some degree she did see her age as a contributing factor against her.  I honestly think there was no logic to her feelings.  She was at constant war with herself, bits and fragments that did not quite fit and wounded her from the inside out.  My best guess is that, when she managed to ignore how young she had been, she still saw herself as special, someone who was not forgettable or irrelevant.  A competent person who had a level head on her shoulders and made mistakes.</p><p>	If she did not, if she admitted to having been a young girl, then the situation became more real to her, more painful.  She could not hide from its ugliness and from the trauma it had left to fester in her.  Denial was her painkiller of choice.</p><p>	Since I did mention it and in case you are wondering: your auntie was indeed smart and observant.  She was mature beyond her years as a result of repeated abuse and was logically driven.  That she was also enthusiastic and impulsive was a mixture of her lack of education and that she was fifteen when a crown crushed her with its weight.  She did a magneficent job for her young age.</p><p>	Back to Katherine deflecting Anne's apology, that angered her.  Anne insisted there was no reason for Katherine to be comforting anyone: she was someone who was very obviously a child and four adults had insulted her and worse for no apparent reason other than poor impulse control or a prejudice towards her last name.</p><p>	Calling Katherine a child was never a good idea.  What little was left of her composure vanished as she went on a rather loud rant about how she had not been some powerless fool.  The one thing she had been able to control in her life she had taken the reigns of.</p><p>	Lina asked exactly what in a terrible attempt to be helpful.  She thought if there was still something Katherine felt responsible for it should be addressed.  Instead she got informed in a shaky voice that Katherine had chosen death over the alternative Henry provided.  I doubt anyone other than myself knew what it was, but since it was Henry who offered it they imagined death had been the better outcome.  Regardless, the knowledge that Katherine had chosen her own death fell like a bomb in that already stressful conversation.</p><p>	My sole respite is I gestured for Lina to shut up the moment she began phrasing her question.  That she did not see me was unfortunate.</p><p>	Even after having been reminded that she herself chose her own demise, Katherine still managed to regain her coolness.  To a degree at least.  Her hands were trembling as if they had a life of their own and she was bouncing her leg and clenching her jaw, but that was as far as her distress showed.  She really did hold on a lot.</p><p>	After Anne apologized since she did not intend to imply Katherine had been a helpless, dumb child, Lina went next.  She asked Katherine to just accept her apology and not force her to say the words out loud, but Kitty insisted she did not know what Lina was talking about.  I am still uncertain if she had really forgotten or she simply did not consider it that bad of an offense.</p><p>	“I do believe I called you 'the least relevant Katherine' at some point.  I would like to apologize for that and move on.”</p><p>	She did not mean for it to sound brash, but it did regardless.  Lina handles chest pain understandibly badly.</p><p>	Yet Katherine was unphased by that.  She said that it was technically correct: both Lina and I had been prominent historical figures, but she had, in her words, “been nothing but Henry's --- of choice.”</p><p>	Her wording still makes me uneasy.  There is something about that sentence that still makes something squirm within me.  I am vaguely aware of having practically begged her to never say that again, to which the others agreed.  Katherine apologized, not wanting to make us feel uncomfortable, but remained convinced that she was objectively irrelevant.</p><p>	Needless to say, it was impossible to persuade her that her relevance as a queen had nothing to do with her relevance as a human being and that it was still something wrong of Lina to say.  Even when reminded of the lives she saved by convincing Henry not to execute people just because he could, Katherine remained steadfast.  As heartbreaking as that was on its own, it was more concerning than anything else: our kitten saw no value in herself.  When she looked within all she saw was a void, nothing to care about, nothing to love.</p><p>	Before Jane apologized I believed it was important to know that.  That we would have a chance of addressing those feelings at some point in the future.  To avoid being needlessly vague without getting too ahead of myself: a trained professional did; not us.  To us that knowledge amounted to nothing other than having a clearer view of the warped mind of Katherine Howard.</p><p>	Jane was crying before she opened her mouth.  I guess it is possible to argue that what she said about nobody caring when Katherine died was perhaps the worst thing that had been thrown her way after waking up.  Knowing that Katherine's family had genuinely not cared about her and that she had mostly been left to protect herself made the metaphorical knife twist in Jane's heart.  She had been hoping her statement was cruel but otherwise false; yet it turned out to be painfully accurate.</p><p>	I am rather positive Katherine's next words were part of the reason Anna got so angry at us later.  Not to say that learning about what we had told her girl would not have been a good enough motive, obviously.  But Katherine's conclusion made Anna despise us even more.</p><p>	“...So?  Why are you sorry?  You said nobody cared when I died.  ...And?  I mean... you weren't wrong, now were you?”</p><p>	Another of the sounds in the repertoir of things I cannot unhear in my nightmares is the strangled gurgle your mother made.  I find people choking on their food to be a more pleasant sound than that.  Then again, her shock and pain are more than easy to understand: had she really been that bad at showing Katherine that she loved her?  Had she been unable to provide even the smallest of ease and affection for her?  Was she truly that terrible a friend?</p><p>	Your auntie went back on her words as if they had zapped her when she realized Anna was crying behind her.  You know your mother, how she does her best to never weep whether she be sad about something serious or as meaningless as a movie.  For her to not even care she was being seen she must have been really, really hurt.  That was the only moment all evening long that Katherine softened a little.  She melted into a puddle of apologies and explained that she was still getting used to the unarguable fact that Anna had cared for her.  Up until her second life she had been convinced Anna was just too kind for her own good and had merely pitied her.</p><p>	Katherine sat on Anna's lap for the rest of the conversation, snuggled up to her.  Anna held her as if she needed to convey her deep affection for her through that embrace.  I understand why, sappy as it may sound.  If your own feelings are high and you are even slightly emotional reading this you are feeling but a minuscule fraction of the tension and hurt that circulated the air that day.  Your mother could not have cared less about being oversensitive.  She just wanted Katherine to know she was loved.</p><p>	Anne took her chance to retort that given that Katherine seemed to care so much about facts when Lina said she was irrelevant she must then be convinced she was indeed relevant: she was relevant to Anna, and she would have been to any of us had we met her.  Once again your auntie was unable to respond.  By her own logic she had talked herself into a corner.</p><p>	Despite how many people were crying and how close Katherine had gotten to her tipping point, I found that to be a satisfying conclusion.  We had managed to make her question that she was to blame and that her life had been meaningless.  That far exceeded my expectations considering how the conversation started.</p><p>	Of course, Katherine, unwilling to watch the people around her suffer, had to give her final word.  “Don't worry, Annie.  It's fine.  All's well that ends well.”</p><p>	It was that, of all things, that made your mother lose her already frail control over her rage.  Her expression changed from a smile to a frown faster than you can snap your fingers.</p><p>	“No, quit it.  They're adults.  Stop trying to make them feel better about having bullied a child.”</p><p>	I have seen few things, if any, trigger Katherine's fight or flight response faster than that. Anna calling her a child was the final drop in the proverbial glass for Katherine and with that she came undone.  She wrestled her way out of Anna's arms as if her life depended on it, kicking and thrashing and turned to face her, trembling head to toe.</p><p>	“Don't call me that.  Stop trying to protect me.  I don't need you.”</p><p>	Those four words cut through the room and seemed to bring time to a halt.  At least until Katherine, horrified by what she had said, fled from the scene.  As for your mother she looked as if someone had stabbed her.  In a way I suppose she had been.  By words, but those can cause more damage than the sharpest of blades.</p><p>	That was by far the last time we heard Katherine say that.  It was her immediate knee-jerk reaction when she felt trapped or in danger.  Loving people always brought her harm, and when she was in a situation that made her fight or flight response take over she defaulted to protecting herself through self-reliance and isolation.  It was a habit she never got over and one that brought her more tears than all of us combined as she spent days after saying it reassuring us she did not mean it.  I am positive everyone grew desensitized to that sentence after hearing it so often.  She did not hurt us with it, it just signalled that she was overloaded and needed an outlet.  It was more of a cry for help than something designed to cause harm.  Still she felt the need to go above and beyond to compensate the pain she believed she had caused.</p><p>	Then again, we would grow numb to the statement in time.  That first time those four words came out of her mouth followed by her leaving was unpleasantly shocking.  While something was obviously amiss with her and she was probably stressed out beyond belief by the conversation Anna doubted she hadn't really meant it.  After all, why would Katherine need the person who had been unable to save her?  Why would she bother loving her?</p><p>	Need I remind you that, Katherine aside, everyone was going through one of the worst bouts of collective misery on their own?  The assumed intent of Katherine's sentence tore your mother down.  While Lina and Jane dashed to comfort Anna and I froze, predictably unable to continue speaking, Anne shook her head as if to clear her thoughts and took off after her cousin.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And there we go.  Now for the part that is somehow worse than this.  See you all in a moment.  (Note: if there are any typos or editing errors I am doing this on a new computer and still getting the hang of things I will edit it as needed in the morning because it's almost midnight here but I really really wanted to get these chapters out)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. The Least Relevant Katherine (Part 2)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay...  This is the one where it gets worse.  I hope I did a good job sincerely and if I did not please do tell me.  You know me by now in terms of writing, I always do my best to avoid gratuitous drama or glorifications of bad and traumatic situations.  I have done my best and I hope it shows.  Please do read the CW list.  At the end of this chapter, the very last paragraph, is the entire Least Relevant Katherine arc summarised with no sensitive issues.  </p><p>I have nothing to add since last chapter so straight into the CWs it is:</p><p>-Panic attacks (vaguely described)<br/>-Even more guilt about people's executions when they couldn't be avoided (Anna and Katherine, mentioned)<br/>-ASD character going through non-verbal episodes (same old as other chapters, you know it's not graphic)<br/>-ASD character having a meltdown (non descript)<br/>-Phantom pains (mentioned quite a lot but just mentioned -chest and abdominal area-)<br/>-Foster system: foster kid afraid of legal guardian losing custody and vice versa; as well as almost losing custody (not really delved into)<br/>-Emotional numbness<br/>-Victim abuse in denial (same as last chapter)<br/>-Victim with very low self-esteem if any (mentioned)<br/>-Mentions of medication again<br/>-Insomnia (not described in detail)<br/>-Trauma-induced memory loss and the distress it causes in the victim<br/>-Fatigue and exhaustion in regards to a chronic illness (hEDS)<br/>-Trauma-induced paranoia (briefly discussed)<br/>-ADHD character having a hard time understanding social cues (jokes that don't land as such, mentioned)<br/>-Concussion recovery (mentioned)<br/>-Sleep deprivation<br/>-Victim blaming herself<br/>-Twisted perception of self due to trauma<br/>-Anne's beheading (mentioned after a nightmare, but barely)<br/>-Suicidal ideation (mentioned)<br/>-Suicide note (not written, just mentioned and the contents abridged and redacted)<br/>-Non descript suicide attempt (there is nothing graphic about it)<br/>-Fire arm (mentioned unrelated to the suicide attempt; a figurative weapon not a real one)<br/>-ADHD character taking jokes literally<br/>-Trauma victim considering herself more an object than a person<br/>-Trauma victim believing herself to be forgettable<br/>-Trauma victim believing those around her would be happier and better off without her<br/>-Fear of losing a loved one to suicide<br/>-Mentioned funeral<br/>-Implied self harm (last chapter basically)<br/>-People saying regretful things when angry<br/>-Demonic possession (in an urban legend, not real, just mentioned)<br/>-Undescribed injuries or ailments from suicide attempt<br/>-Temporary blindness due to suicide attempt<br/>-Unconsciousness and consequent coma<br/>-Ambulance ride (barely discussed)<br/>-Non descript life threatening surgery due to suicide attempt<br/>-Hospitalizations and phantom pains<br/>-Temporary character death and consequent resusitation via defibrilator (mentioned)<br/>-Death days (skimmed over)<br/>-Refusing to accept a loved one's mortality<br/>-Implied vomiting (non descript)<br/>-ED mention (unrelated to earlier vomiting)<br/>-Belief one's loved one won't survive<br/>-Sepsis recovery (mentioned)<br/>-IVs and needles mentioned</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Those four words had left Katherine's mouth without permission.  As I said they were a result of a primal instinct, not critical thinking.  We do not know much of what she did when she locked herself in her bedroom other than what little she told us.  That everything inside her head was “noisy” and “she couldn't make sense of a single thought.”</p><p>	“It was horrible mix of 'You've hurt Anna, you're a liar and the worst person ever' and 'Anna will take advantage of you, how stupid can you be to trust her?'  And all I wanted was some peace and quiet.”</p><p>	We know more after she opened the door to Anne, seeing as she told us about it when Katherine went to sleep that same night.  Following Katherine ignoring her for the better part of ten minutes, in which Anne sat by her door and talked to her in as soothing a voice as she could, Kitty's door opened without warning.  Anne was expecting to be screamed at, given the mood Katherine was in, but instead her little cousin held onto her as if for dear life and pleaded her to “make it stop.”</p><p>	“It” remains another unknown.  Her hurt feelings, her crushing thought process...  All we can do is guess.</p><p>	Anne lost track of how long she held Katherine in that doorway as the steadfast girl went through the largest breakdown she'd had to date.  Judging by how Anne described it later it was as if Katherine were coming undone and the only thing tethering her to the moment were Anne's arms around her.</p><p>	Eventually she lead Katherine to her bed and talked to her, trying to understand why her cousin had said what Anne knew to be a lie.  What had upset her so much?  Was it the conversation in general, something Anna said?  Simply a matter of Katherine being overwhelmed?</p><p>	Katherine could not explain herself beyond “I don't know”, “I wasn't thinking” and “I was scared.”  What she was able to elaborate on rather extensively was “Anna's going to hate me”, “Do you think she knows I didn't mean it?” and “Should I apologize or give her time?”; to which Anne recommended an immediate apology and explanation.  Even if it was one as vague as Katherine had given her.  Anything for Anna to know that Kitty did not mean what she'd said.</p><p>	In part Anne coaxed Katherine because she was afraid for Anna's feelings; but mostly she did it for Katherine herself.  The sooner she fixed everything with Anna the better.  It was obvious Kitty depended on her and did not fair well without her to fall back on.  In the vulnerable and bordering on hysteric state Katherine was in, especially knowing what she was capable of doing to herself, the last thing she needed was to feel like she had lost Anna.</p><p>	Meanwhile downstairs your mother was inconsolable.  She had fallen into a downwards spiral in which she was convinced that Katherine had meant every word she said.  And, to make matters worse, that in a sense it was fair because Anna had not done anything to try stopping her execution and it was to be expected that Katherine would hate her.</p><p>	Lina and Jane tried to make sense of it all, insisting that Katherine could not have been serious and there was no way Anna was at fault for her death.  Soon Lina had to leave lest her chest pain lead her to another bout of phantom pains and I followed soon after.  I was being of no assistance to Jane in soothing Anna regardless.  Not with my voicebox frozen.</p><p>	I thought I knew the drill well enough when I locked my bedroom door behind me.  I would write and express myself in a way spoken words failed to let me.  Then I would calm down.</p><p>	But words did not come.  The page remained blank in front of me and my fingers as unresponsive as my voice.  Any perspective I tried to assemble the puzzle from I had been given mismatching pieces.  Why Katherine was so hellbent on denying her youth, why she had lashed out at Anna of all people, what both of them must be feeling...  There was no place to begin putting it together, the leads slipped from my grasp when I tried to hold on to them.</p><p>	Granted with all that tension there was a little more than another non-verbal episode in terms of emotional consequences for me, but I do not see the point in describing one more meltdown.  You get it, your mother has those some times.  Potentially when you read this you understand even better.  What I am certain you will not find strage one way or the other is that I find no pleasure in speaking of them; let alone in minute detail.</p><p>	As I stared blankly at my screen trying to fend off the numbess and Lina took deep breaths in her bed praying for the pain to pass, Jane had made little to no progress with Anna.  As good as Jane was at calming people there was so much she could do when the person she was talking to was as willing to listen as a cat is to obey orders.  She was relieved when Anne knocked on the living room door and asked if Anna was feeling up to speaking to Katherine.  Doubly so when Anne insisted she let Anna and Kitty talk on their own.</p><p>	Jane went with Lina in case she had another anxiety crisis and Anne came to check up on me.  By the time she did the worst part had already subsided but it must have been evident that I was not feeling my best, so Anne sat on my bed and began rambling about her latest hyperfixation.  Something about cacti I believe.  In other words: a monologue that would keep me distracted and did not require my input in the slightest while she reminded me that I was not alone and I was cared for.</p><p>	Your auntie really is perfect.</p><p>	We never knew what Katherine and Anna talked about when Jane and Anne left.  I believe it to be irrelevant for the purpose of this story, though.  What matters most is the outcome: neither Katherine nor Anna were feeling well enough to have dinner with the rest of us, so they secluded themselves in Katherine's room and later had a sleepover.  It is safe to say they mended whatever it was they thought had snapped between them.  Because nothing really had: Anna chose a bad word lacking ill intent and Katherine had an unavoidable reaction without wanting to harm Anna, either.</p><p>	At dinner Anne put the rest of us up to date about Katherine's fragile state.  We then went to sleep, each with our own tribulations and intense feelings.  The following morning, as one of the last of summer vacation, we decided to watch a movie together.  Something simple, a calm start of our day to contrast the storm of the previous day.  Those who wanted to form a lump of affection on the couch did so, but I kept my distance.</p><p>	We let Jane choose the film.  Even if she could have never foreseen the outcome I believe she felt bad about it until the day she died.</p><p>	I don't even remember its title.  It was about a girl in the foster system who found a woman who cared for her and little by little gained her trust.  However due to a misunderstanding of sorts her foster mother wound up losing custody of her and they were reunited many, many years later after when the girl was already an adult.</p><p>	When we saw the movie was about the foster system we decided to change the film, but something about it had enraptured Katherine.  What it was she refused to say until the credits rolled.</p><p>	“...Is it really that easy to lose custody of someone?”</p><p>	Something that I have not brought up yet for brevety's sake is that Katherine's case worker was breathing down Anna's neck ever since her scars were reported by the hospital.  Apparently she had done the same in previous foster homes (from before we woke up, I assume), even in entirely healthy ones where she had been well taken care of, and it seemed to be more a manifestation of her trauma than of any current abuse.  And yet to be certain that Anna was taking good care of Katherine both of them, as well as the rest of us separately, were questioned.  A specialist saw Katherine and dictated that that was by far the best she had been in her life.  </p><p>	Obviously we mentioned nothing about being reincarnated from the Tudor period or that we were the ones who uttered the words Katherine injured herself with.  Per her request, since she did not want to be removed from our side.</p><p>	However now that it has become relevant you must know that your auntie was terrified that she would lose us.  As conflicting as her feelings were she wished to stay with us; Anna most of all.  As such that movie satisfied her morbid curiosity to know just how quickly a person can be taken from their legal guardian.  She had wanted to google it for days, but always convinced herself to do so at a later date.</p><p>	We couldn't really answer because firstly we did not know, and secondly because Katherine sounded so desperate it felt like a “yes” would have broken her.  However there was no need for a reply as one post-credit sentence did the job for us:</p><p>	“Based on a true story.”</p><p>	Anna was at Katherine's side before the first horrified, dry sob wracked her petite frame.  As painful as that moment was for the two of them the prospect of waking up in a house without Katherine was heartwrenching and terrifying for the rest of us as well.  So, you know, yet again the exact opposite of what we needed.  As if our own issues were not enough we also had that to worry about.</p><p>	We left them alone, not without Anne reassuring her cousin that she would sooner kidnap her than let anyone separate her from us.  While Jane still had tears to cry my entire emotional well had dried up the previous day.  Yes, apparently losing Katherine's custody was far easier than I had anticipated.  There were no feelings left within me to agonize over that or to care for the others.  I went to my room and when Anne made to follow me as she had the previous night I shook my head and she did not push the issue.</p><p>	I crawled back into bed, under the sheets, as if that would restart the day and we would watch any other movie.  A Disney one would have been nice.  Anything except for that.</p><p>	To Jane's credit the movie's summary was mismatched.  She was positive she had chosen a rom-com.  Not even the cast lined up, or the production year.  A small error on Netflix' part that would have normally been a negligible nuisance became another source of grief for what little was left of our collective household stability.</p><p>	While Lina and Anne did their best to calm Jane down while fighting their own feelings Anna had an idea.  It flashed across her mind and, seeing how events were developing, she did not give it much thought before speaking it.  Something that, again, under normal conditions she would have pondered longer.  Then again with everything around her falling apart she did the best she could.</p><p>	“What if I adopted you?”</p><p>	Before Katherine could fly off the handles at the implication of being someone who needed protection and to be taken care of (though I doubt she had the energy for that) Anna explained it must be harder to separate those in the foster system from adoptive parents rather than foster ones.  Of course, she would only go through with the operation if Katherine was comfortable and for legal reasons.  Though she did admit that she had no qualms about being Katherine's mother in every sense of the word unless Katherine desired otherwise.</p><p>	Your auntie grew to have a love-hate relationship with her response over the years.  On one hand she was glad she'd been vulnerable and miserable enough to accept because she did see Anna as something of a parental unit she could let her guard down around.  On the other, her permanently warring feelings of fear of emotional closeness made her curse that decision.  In the end all things considered she did go through the process (and never have I seen her happier than the day it was official she was Anna's daughter), but it did bring her unease at times.</p><p>	Anna had been expecting anything but a rotund agreement.  Katherine burrowed into her embrace and thanked her for “caring so much”.  She always did feel like she should be grateful for being loved as if she were not inherently lovable.  </p><p>	She was, Mae.  What I describe is nothing compared to how lovable she was.</p><p>	The rest of the day went surprisingly well.  Katherine and Anna were both overjoyed about having shared their feelings.  Their joy was almost contagious amidst the misery that had stalked us ever since Katherine's concussion. </p><p>	For the first time since then your auntie was calm, almost serene.  It did strike me as odd.  I was happy for her and for Anna, of course, but I did find it strange.  At first I considered Katherine had taken painkillers again, but she had not.  Her emotions were unfiltered by a hazy mind.</p><p>	Even so, any happiness we could have I was willing to latch onto and not question.  Anything that was not Lina's nightmares about Mary, Anne's about her execution, Jane's grief about Eddie, Anna's debilitating self-esteem and my permanent thoughts about you was welcome.  Anything other than fearing what was going through Katherine's mind was very much appreciated.  As such I pushed the sensation that something was not quite right to the back of my mind and simply enjoyed the little sunspot we had found in an otherwise stormy day.</p><p>	After all, it had been sort of obvious to everyone that Anna wanted to care for Katherine and that your auntie felt safer with her than anyone else.  As Annie once put it, “the only reason Anna didn't slam adoption papers in front of you [Katherine, your auntie] earlier was because she was afraid it'd scare you [Kitty again] away”.  That was an accurate assesment of the situation.</p><p>	But of course, not everything was as it seemed.  As much as Katherine had found immediate comfort in her agreement, it would come back to haunt her.  As she explained later, the only reason she accepted Anna's offer was because she had reached her lowest, most vulnerable state.  Fear of losing Anna, of being taken away from her and us, overpowered her fear of admitting her true feelings out loud.</p><p>	Let me remind you once more that overall, though in great part Katherine went forwards with the legal process to avoid hurting Anna's feelings, it did make her genuinely happy.  She never said it, but the only day I (or anyone else, for that matter) ever saw your auntie cry from joy was the day she and your mother walked out of court with their bond made legal.  Mind you, by the time that happened Katherine was two weeks away from her eighteenth birthday and the adoption was practically worthless, but it was the sentiment that mattered.  That Anna had fought tooth and nail for her for three years to ensure that nothing would do them apart.</p><p>	They were both so happy.  We all were.  They needed each other, Mae.  In case losing Kitty wasn't enough, now that I am about to leave you I admire your mother even more.  I have not lived a single day without you in either life; it is always you I am abandoning, yet the idea that I will not be by your side is paralyzing.  Anna has lived with that pain for two years now; disregarding how long she did in our first life.</p><p>	Apologies.  I am trying to keep these derailing trains of thought to myself, I promise.  But right now you are playing behind me and thinking that the day will come I will no longer hear your voice fills me with grief I dare not describe.  </p><p>	Back to that day in August, Katherine spent a relatively good day as I said, and in turn not having to worry about her and Anna lessened all our burdens, but at night was when it got bad.  Night time seldom brought Katherine any joy, she had to wait for sunlight to wash the darkness away to feel any positive emotion.  Her best method to deal with nights was sleeping through them, but rest rarely visisted her.  In a mixture of the past and the present her eyelids would not close.</p><p>	A time came when your auntie did legitimately come to us in said nights, not just to fulfill a mission like when she went to me to get me to sleep; but we were far from those days.  Back then Katherine only slept with someone if the other person either sought her out or if she noticed they were distressed.  </p><p>	A thing about your auntie's memories that is rather unpleasant to discuss, yet provides necessary context, is that while she remembered having been hurt, she did not recall what had happened.  She had hazy enough memories of whatever came before and of the aftermath; but not of the events themselves.  Of those she only caught glimpses when the most arbitrary thing triggered a memory: a scent, an actor's voice on the telly, a word...  While it sounds like that should have been a blessing for her it really was not.  As humans we are wired to fill in the blanks.  That she was unable to consumed her with dread, causing her to unwillingly obsess over potential scenarios.  </p><p>	During the day, when she was occupied, she rarely had time to mull over her first life, but at night those thoughts crawled into her room along with the moonlight.  She tried keeping herself busy, but exhaustion usually stopped her from accomplishing much and left her zoning out regardless, which lead her back to wondering.</p><p>	I don't think you remember it, but auntie Kitty was always tired.  Before her hEDS diagnosis we chalked it up to her always doing something and apparently not knowing the meaning of the word “rest”, when in reality it was fatigue kicking in.  Her body exhausted itself trying to keep itself in once piece.</p><p>	Now that we have established the sort of thoughts that plagued your auntie at night I can tell you that during those hours she grew paranoid.  About everything from a random noise outside to the events of the day.  Our neighbour going to the same bus stop as her in her mind became him following her route.  Anne having said something joking turned into Anne having repressed feelings against Katherine that were starting to show.  Lina being even the slightest on edge in class became Lina having been annoyed at her and her alone.</p><p>	When morning came, and especially on days in which she managed to rest if only a little, Katherine managed to discern fear from reality: our neighbour always took the same bus.  Anne could get carried away easily and it was far more productive to let her know her “joke” hadn't landed as such than to overthink it.  Lina had been pestered by countless classes before reaching Katherine's, she was already tense when she walked through the door.</p><p>	But ever since her concussion Morpheus had come for Katherine less and less often.  When she knew that we were aware of her so-called coping mechanism, sleep grew slimmer for her.  By the time Anna proposed the adoption and Katherine accepted she had slept a total of six hours in four days.  </p><p>	That night your auntie did not get a wink.  In the dark of the her room her fear grew tenfold: Anna would most definitely tire of her if she was even more tied to her.  We were all still processing everything she had said about her past and would no doubt hate her when we realized what she had done.  Anne would surely kick her out of the house as soon as she accepted that Lizzie had gotten hurt because of her.  I would stop talking to her when I saw that she was indeed to blame for Henry setting his sights on me.</p><p>	And those came accompanied by darker thoughts.  That Anna would turn on her as revenge and hurt her, that we would punish her in ways you do not need to read about, that if we did love her it was just a matter of time before she brought us pain and tainted us...  No matter how she looked at her current situation she was bound to either be hurt or cause the rest of us harm.  She was in danger or a hazard, her mind could not decide which.  The one thing it agreed on was that she should not be beside us.</p><p>	How I wish her trauma had been loud.  Instead that night we were awoken by Lina, Anne and Jane at different points for different reasons.  I stayed with Lina until she fell asleep again, and later on Janey crawled into bed with her.  Your mother stayed awake with auntie Anne playing video games.  The sounds from the Switch were much more appealing than the cries of crowds long dead who had jeered for her demise.</p><p>	In the middle of that mess Katherine remained alone with her thoughts.  Eventually one solution came to mind.  One that she had considered before, but always felt nauseous about.  One that would make it so she never had to deal with anyone ever again and viceversa.  A very permanent solution, if you catch my drift.  One that there was no turning back from.</p><p>	The scariest part was that, unlike other times, it was not an uncomfortable intrusive thought.  Given that my kitten saw no way out, taking the reigns of her life once more and ending it on her own terms sounded dangerously alluring.</p><p>	And still when morning came she deemed it absurd.  Certainly she was just tired, as usual.  Even if she could not convince herself that there was another way to solve her perceived conundrum suicide ceased being a valid option.</p><p>	For approximately fifteen minutes, at least.</p><p>	All this and what I am about to tell you I know from Katherine's account.  Her therapist insisted we all needed to know how she had gotten to such a desperate conclusion for closure.  It was a conversation we had once and never again.  From here on out I will do my best to provide vital information without disclosing too much of Katherine's lowest moment and without scarring you in ways that can be avoided.  For any possible mistakes I apologize in advance.</p><p>	When your precious auntie came downstairs for breakfast she was mortified at the prospect of facing Anna.  Both in fear that your mother had changed her mind and even greater that she had not.  Lina was getting ready to leave, she was going out to return some books from the library; and while normally I would have accompanied her I stayed behind.  I was tired from the previous night and the emotionally trying days.  As Lina went about gathering her things and leaving, the rest of us were talking.</p><p>	Our conversation revolved around Katherine.  Spefically about how the unfortunate incident in the restaurant had brought everyone misery.  Up until that point Katherine was convinced going to the establishment had been arbitrary; not that it was an event planned for her.  She did not finish coming downstairs to join us.  Instead she returned to her room and opened her laptop.  Her mind was made: she had already brought us pain, she had already harmed us.  If she had been better at hiding her emotions none of us would have been at that wretched joint and we would not have heard those pettulant boys.  </p><p>	That negative view of herself that fed directly into her notion that there was something wrong within her re-inforced her nihilist thoughts from the night.  In her eyes alone, if all she could do was cause grievances to those who loved her, she had no right to live.  Even if she did not, she had directly contributed to Lizzie meeting Thomas (again I cannot stress enough how much this was only her fault in her mind).  Someone who had done such a thing deserved no second chance.</p><p>	She typed a quick note, then deleted it, figuring she would make it an easier job for us to forget her by not leaving anything behind.  In her haste though, she did not empty her recycle bin.  She sped to get dressed and made her way downstairs.  Lina had left a minute earlier and Katherine told us in a rush that she too had books to return and had texted Lina, that Lina was waiting for her outside.</p><p>	Despite her hurry your auntie did pause to tell us all that she loved us, and to take care.  We believed her and did not think much of it, since she had brought a bag with herself, and we continued with our morning.</p><p>	Granted, she was carrying no books and the only text she had sent Lina had been one eerily similar to the words she had told us before leaving the house: that she loved her and that she ought to be kind to herself.  Lina was certain it was an overly sweet good morning text and replied, but the reply went unread as Katherine made sure to leave her phone in her bedroom.</p><p>	I cannot believe that she was convinced we would simply forget her.  How furious I am at everyone who made her think that was possible.  Yet if I were to go on an emotional tirade I would be here for another hour venting about an event I cannot change.</p><p>	And anyways, by the time I get to the part in which we found out Katherine was not with any of us, I am positive there will be plenty of outbursts lining my words.  Let us move on.</p><p>	You have no need to know where your auntie went or what it was she had in mind.  However it is relevant for you to be aware that she had no intent of being found remotely on time and that her method of choice had several contingency plans: if one were to fail, the others would most definitely accomplish the deed.  </p><p>	Her therapist later told Anna that more likely than not, suicide attempted by girls Katherine's age failed due to choosing an inefficient method.  Either out of a bad choice or due to harbouring the wish of being rescued; one final cry of help in what has to be an overwhelmingly desperate situation.  </p><p>	The only way your auntie would have done a better job would have been if she had had access to a fire arm.  That was how much thought she had put into it.  She had no hopes, intention or as much as secret desire to be rescued.  She was making sure she would return to the earth that had spat her back into the world of the living.</p><p>	What saved her was luck alone.  Either that or whichever entity resurrected us being offended that Katherine dared interfere with its plan.</p><p>	A few minutes after Lina and supposedly Katherine left for the library I was finishing the dishes and about to go up to my room.  Jane had stayed with me to discuss the book we were reading together and Annie and your mother were still at the table talking about something related to their video game.  </p><p>	Whenever I think about that moment I remember what your mother told us after we discovered her eating disorder.  That any day could be a date we would never forget and we wouldn't know until it was far too late.  She was so right.  August 28th had been an irrelevant date for me every day of both my lives until that cursed Saturday.  Now I cannot forget it, I am always aware that it is coming in the back of my mind.</p><p>	Suddenly Anne cursed and told us rather sheepishly that she needed all our help: she had a co-worker called Kiara whom she had started talking to after she'd been attacked by the parrot.  What at first was no more than a workmate being concerned for her had evolved into them talking occasionally and becoming friends.  Eventually they exchanged phone numbers and if your auntie was texting someone and we were all home it was safe to assume she was talking to Kiara.</p><p>	Fortune would have it that Kiara's phone had broken earlier that week and so she and Anne had been speaking through the only social media both of them had, Twitter.  That particular morning Twitter was down, though, and instead of waiting to send her friend an x-rated meme until the issue was fixed, ever the impatient one your auntie e-mailed it to her.</p><p>	Except instead of sending it to Kiara, distracted while talking to Anna, she sent it to the only other person in her contact list whose name started with a K and an I: Kitty.  Still caught up in her conversation with your mother, she did not realize her mistake until way more than seven minutes had passed and she could no longer unsend the e-mail.</p><p>	“Kit's going to be very upset if she sees that” Anne said with a goofy grin.  “It's quite dirty so uhh...  Any of you happen to know her computer password so we can delete it before she sees it?”</p><p>	The idea wasn't well received, especially by your mother.  She made the point that simply asking Katherine not open it should be enough.  However Annie was concerned that, since Katherine always kept her phone on airplane mode, if she turned on her mobile data outside before we could talk to her she would open the e-mail before the reading the texts asking her not to.  Its content could upset her greatly and Anne was worried it would make Katherine feel even worse; or remember things she would best not be reminded of.  Given the subject Anne had written in the e-mail there were no chances of Katherine realizing it was not intended for her to read, either.  Asking Lina to tell Katherine would not be useful, either, as she always turned her phone off at the library and by then it could be too late.</p><p>	After weighing the pros and cons we begrudgingly agreed Anne was right: Katherine did not need any more sources of stress and potential pain.  It was not unlikely for her to text the others, especially myself, from the library to ask if we wanted a book if she saw one she thought could interest us.  An e-mail from Anne with a title that was clearly satire was more likely to pique her interest than regular messages; the odds were she would look at the e-mail first. </p><p>	Still, just in case, I texted Lina to inform her of the situation and let us know if she could stop Katherine before we needed to go to her computer.  As expected, the message did not arrive.  Yet having tried eased my consciousness a little.</p><p>	Katherine's password turned out to be Jane's first guess, as it was related to some cartoon series the two were watching (“Avatar the Last Airbender”, I believe.  Kitty was in love with it).  We did nothing on Katherine's computer but open her browser and go to gmail, praying that she had ticked auto login.  She had, and Anne went to her e-mail and selected it for deletion.</p><p>	“Wait, now I'm kinda curious” your mother said.  “What are you texting -well, e-mailing, you're going old school here- that Kiara about?  Hmm?”<br/>	It was supposed to be a joke, an innuendo that Anne had a crush on Kiara.  But your auntie took it literally and opened the image.  For which first she had to download it.  She insisted it was no big deal, that they would access the dowloads folder straight from the browser, delete it and empty the bin.  Katherine would be none the wiser and we weren't snooping through her files or anything in that vein.</p><p>	The meme was incredibly vulgar and Anna continued teasing your mother about her supposed crush.  After deleting the image Anne went to the recycle bin to erase all traces of her little mistake.</p><p>	“Oh, so my baby cousin writes...  Interesting.  You're rubbing off on her, Cathy.”</p><p>	The only other document in the bin was a text file called 'Goodbye'.  Nothing about it was remarkable to me and if Anne had not pointed out that it could have been a form of creative writing I would not have realized it was there.  Mostly because I did not want to look at Katherine's computer under any circumstances, but also because Lina had replied and her answer was concerning.</p><p>	“Kat isn't with me, she's home with you guys (??).  She texted me good morning, that's all I know from her today.”</p><p>	When I told the others the air stilled.  She had lied to us.  We could immediately outrule teenage rebellion, that was not something she would do.  Her complex feelings aside, she would not make us worry like that.  Not while knowing that we were already having a terrible week as was and what heart palpitations could do to Lina.  Then what had made her leave the house?</p><p>	When Jane spoke up her voice was unnaturally quiet.</p><p>	“When did she delete that 'Goodbye' thing?”</p><p>	Of course, it had been deleted minutes prior.  Just around when Lina left.  Nobody uttered a word as Anne restored the document and opened it.  As you must be expecting, it was a suicide note.</p><p>	It was bone-chilling.  She hadn't finished it, giving up less than half a page in, but what was there was more than enough.  She detailed how we would be better off without her, happier, and we shouldn't have a hard time forgetting her.  After all, what was there to remember?  Keep in mind that your auntie perceived herself more as an object to be used and discarded than a person.  </p><p>	I believe having my soul ripped from my body would have hurt less than reading those words.</p><p>	Pandemonium ensued.  Anne's first reaction was slamming her fist against the table while Jane's was crying.  Anna wasted no time in calling 999.  She did not know what Katherine had taken with her, or where she was going, but she had to do something, anything to try stopping her.  She was not willing nor ready to lay Katherine to rest a second time.</p><p>	While she finished her phone call Anne had already taken off to get dressed, instructing Jane to stay home with me “in case Katherine came back.”  Which even to me was obviously the kind way of saying “you two crumble under stress and will be more of a liability than a helping hand in this search.”</p><p>	As frozen and disgusted as Katherine's letter left me my eyes were glued to it.  The human mind is really peculiar in how it does its best to avoid pain by latching onto the most pointless details.  It can be how uncomfortable one's jeans are in someone's funeral (Lina during Jane's, for example); or how beautiful the sky looks in the middle of an argument.  But the irrelevant thing that caught my attention at that moment was Katherine's prose.  It was ridiculously flowery, like that of old fairy tales.  Most of it took my rather literal mind several read-throughs to decipher.</p><p>	I was reading about how she was headed for “dream's end” when Jane shut the screen, still sobbing hysterically.  She asked what it was I wanted to find between those lines.  There was nothing of use there, why was I revelling in Katherine's pain?  Jane sounded irate, her regular warmth turned into a bonfire with pain.  Had it not been herself who had engraved in Katherine's mind and consequently flesh that nobody would care if she died?</p><p>	As I saw her break before my eyes until she got sick and had to dash for the bathroom I felt like a monster.  Obviously I cared about Katherine.  I was terrified it would be too late.  But yet again my mind was desperately trying to keep me from confronting the harsh reality.  It was not the first time it happened, I was aware that at some point in the future the repressed feelings would return with a vengeance; yet still I felt as if there were something wrong with me for not having a visceral reaction like the others had.</p><p>	Was that how my kitten had felt all along?  That sensation of repulsion towards one's own existence?  Was that why she'd hurt herself?</p><p>	That train of thought would have made me spiral out of control as Jane had, but it was brusquely interrupted by Lina calling me.  On her way to the library she had encountered some of her students; who instead of ignoring her like most do their teachers during vacation period, had stopped to greet her.  After making forced conversation with them she had turned her phone on before entering the library to share something fasicious with us along the lines of “I have located two cryptids: two students did not run from me”.  She figured we could all do with some chuckles or at least an eye roll after the week we'd had.</p><p>	However all humor left her when she found out that Katherine was supposed to be with her and she had waited for an explanation.  After waiting five minutes without an answer she called me directly.  As I informed her of what had happened Lina grew silent.  She turned around and kept me talking on the phone.  So that we could inform each other at a moment's notice if Katherine reappeared, she said.  And what I personally interpret as her not wanting me to have another meltdown and doing her best to sound calm and keep me company.</p><p>	As she wandered the city aimlessly, asking people with poorly contained anguish if they'd seen a young girl with a bright pink dip dye Lina insisted I speak to her.  I believe she wanted to distract me as well.  Despite being so relaxed in appearance the only things my mind had room for were Katherine and her safety.  As such what I came up with was telling Lina about Katherine's letter.  That I did turned out to be one of the key points in saving your auntie.</p><p>	Something about “dream's end” sounded familiar to Lina.  She had most definitely heard her students talk of that place.  It was an urban legend of sorts around the school, about a girl who went missing somewhere and was apparently corrupted by the devil or got possessed or something similar.  Lina was never one to pay heed to such stories and not once has she entertained her students by discussing the legend with them.  As their Religion teacher she has been asked one time too many about her opinion on possession and the portals where demons can supposedly enter the mortal realm from.  She always gives an exasperated sigh and continues with her lecture as if she hadn't heard the queries; most of the time they are intended to distract her and waste class time.</p><p>	Her search then turned towards her students.  They were going to a local park or so they'd told Lina.  She hung up on me to use her maps app, as she did not know of any parks near the library, and once she had her route ready she called all the faculty members she had on her contacts list.  If she did not find her students then she would try everything.  Perhaps one of her work mates had listened to the urban legend top to bottom and had at least an idea where this “dream's end” place could be.</p><p>	At first it gave me hope.  Katherine was counting on nobody even realizing she was gone; let alone finding out where she was headed, for at least an hour.  Assuming that she needed time to arrive we could intercept her before she went through with it.</p><p>	Seconds pass like hours in hospitals; yet they are far from the only locations time expands in.  A place as comforting and familiar as Katherine's room was turning as menacing as a hospital's white walls.  Her stuffed animal collection, the books that covered every available surface, her sketchbook...  What if they remained untouched forever?  What if the cute plushies were never held by their owner again?  What if the unused pages in her sketchbook stayed blank?</p><p>	Little by little my feelings were breaking through as if my lungs were filling with water.  It became harder and harder to breathe until Lina called me once more.  Then and there she only told me where “dream's end” is and that she had already alerted Anna and the police and they were on their way; as was she.  Dream's end was closer to her than where the patrols and your mother and Anne were.  Though the police cars would unarguably arrive faster they had no way of reaching dream's end in their vehicles.  Since they would have to walk quite a bit there was a chance that Lina would get there first.</p><p>	It was later that your auntie told me everything: the only person who responded to her call was her friend ever since Katherine got pushed down the stairs, the Head of Studies.  Martha is her name.  The other teachers Lina had tried contacting were either unavailable or unwilling to reply to what they assumed to be a work call in the last days of vacation.  Martha was spending time with her sister in their old family house several towns away.  However, Martha's nieces lived in London and went to Lina's school.  They were creepypasta enthusiasts and thrilled that their school had a legend of its own.  They had gone to dream's end several times and knew the way to the rather remote location.</p><p>	Coincidentally enough, it was in the park where Lina was headed to.  I prefer saying that it was luck that saved Katherine, as I have never been fond of considering religion or supernatural matters following our resurrection (it made me question one thing to many, I believe it to be comprehensible).  However the more coincidences appear the harder it is to believe that there was nothing pulling the strings behind the curtains.  This incident has greatly made me wonder how much freedom we have really had since waking up or if our every action was scripted; but those musings are for much later.</p><p>	For the record, as I said earlier I do not want you to have even a clue to go on regarding your auntie's attempt to take her own life.  I will continue referring to dream's end as such instead of describing it for that purpose.  </p><p>	The patrols and Lina arrived at their destination more or less at once despite her headstart.  Given that by the time they got to dream's end it was already late, Lina has confided multiple times that she wishes she had not gotten there at all.  What she saw has haunted her since, always stalking the back of her thoughts, waiting for any excuse to force her to live through it again.</p><p>	As I have more than hinted at at this point, they were barely on time and Katherine's state was already dire.  Still it is bordering on a miracle that they arrived then and not five minutes later.</p><p>	Your auntie was barely conscious but too confused with shock to realize what was happening, where she was or that she had been interrupted.  It would seem that her ability to see was greatly reduced, as she asked where Lina was constantly despite the fact she was walking beside the police officer who was carrying Katherine in plain sight.  Very soon after she drifted into unconsciousness.</p><p>	Lina rarely speaks of that day.  Adrenaline was carrying her through it ever since I told her about Katherine's goodbye letter and when she eventually crashed was when we learnt we could have multiple death days.  The most Lina has said was that it felt like she were about to collapse from heart failure and for the first time in her second life she could not care less.  Even as black spots covered her vision she found them to be little more than nuisances.</p><p>	She needed to get Katherine into the ambulance.  Until she wasn't in the hospital being tended to little else mattered to Lina.</p><p>	She was allowed to ride in with Katherine, hence being the first one to arrive to the hospital.  She texted us on the way, asking us to get there as soon as possible, that the situation looked bad.</p><p>	She didn't want to say she doubted our little one would ever open her eyes again.</p><p>	All the ride there Lina held Katherine's hand.  Her memories of the ride are blurry, the ambulance's siren but a distant sound to her.  All she could think of was reassuring Katherine that she was not alone, that everyone needed her to wake up, that she had to keep on fighting.  </p><p>	As soon as the ambulance came to an abrupt halt and the doors opened Lina stayed out of the medical personnel's way.  They put Katherine on the awaiting stretcher and sped to the ER.  The doctors' and nurses' voices were lost to Lina's noisy mind.  All she could focus on was keeping Katherine in her line of sight for as long as possible.  A little voice in the back of her head told her it was the last time she would see Katherine.</p><p>	When the ER's doors closed behind the medical team and Lina could no longer follow she heard one sentence she would never forget.  Out of the warped mess of voices she was blocking out one rang clear as a bell.</p><p>	“Shit!  Get the defibrillators ready!”</p><p>	Worry not, my little girl.  As you very well know your auntie survived.  However she had hurt herself enough to be clinically dead for a little under a minute.  While she was successfully resucitated Lina did not know that.  The last thing she had heard about Kitty's state was that her heart had stopped beating.</p><p>	Your mother and auntie Anne must have arrived a few moments later.  They made it to the hospital just in time to see Lina staring blankly at the ER doors a second before stumbling against the nearby wall making to attempts to mask her sobs.</p><p>	While Lina got the brunt of the experience it was not easy for the rest of us, either.  Anne and your mother had ran through the streets praying not to find Katherine at any road or bridge.  When they were told that she had been located and was en route to the hospital they were only slightly relieved.  Even modern medicine cannot work miracles and from Lina's description the situation sounded rather urgent.</p><p>	I would say it was more painful a experience for your mother than for auntie Anne.  Not because Annie cared less about her cousin; that could not be further from the truth.  But...  How to explain it?  Do you remember the first time you went to the dentist, my princess?  You were nervous, afraid of the unknown.  The second visit you were outright hysterical.  While the first time you knew you would not enjoy your appointment the second you were aware in exactly which ways you would dislike it.  It was no longer the vague discomfort of uncertainty; but rather the fear of being accutely aware of what was to come.</p><p>	Imagining a life without a loved one is always nerve-warcking.  Anne was a mess for a long time after that day, even after Katherine came back home safe and sound.  However your mother needed not use her imagination.  She knew far too well what it felt like to sit at a room where Katherine should be but was not.  The oppressive aura of the life that was no longer there, the agony of going to court to visist her step children and having every nook and cranny remind her of Kitty.  </p><p>	The pain was eating her alive.  She could not go back home to yet another empty mausoleum.</p><p>	That was the state of mind both were in when they entered the hospital.  Much like Lina's chest pains had flared up so did Anna's cramps.  But the horrific anticipation of seeing Lina, always the one to keep her calm, not care about falling apart in public managed to keep the pain at bay for a little.  Again, adrenaline is a strange beast.  It has even been proven to aid people in exerting more physical force than they posses.  Though phantom pains are a far cry from physical impediments and anxiety has been known to make them worse I can only assume something similar was what happened.  It did not last long; but it temporarily staved off the pain of ailments that had long ago healed.</p><p>	Lina could not get the words out.  They were choked out by her incessant cries.  The story here gets comprehensibly blurry, but the lowdown was that while Anna was trying to soothe Lina to get her to speak Anne was much more panicked and generally being unintentionally unhelpful by pressuring Lina to tell them how Katherine was.</p><p>	In the meantime Jane and I were halfway there in a taxi.  We had called one as soon as Lina insisted we all go there.  If she was asking that of us despite knowing our general aversion to medical spaces Katherine's situation must be truly dire.  “Dire.”  That was the term we settled on in an unspoken agreement to avoid saying what we were both truly thinking: “deathly.”</p><p>	Resistance to accepting the possibility of losing Kitty was generalized.</p><p>	Jane hadn't uttered any word that was not strictly necessary as we got ready after I went to fetch her from the bathroom when I read Lina's text.  However, in the taxi she handed me my noise cancelling headphones and a small bundle of yarn.</p><p>	“This seemed to help last time; and you complained a whole lot about how loud it was.  I hope you don't mind I grabbed these for you.”</p><p>	The gesture, while touching, did not register as such.  Nothing truly was, feelings were simply not coming through.  My heart was in a knot, both desiring and dreading a call from Lina.  Where I normally get nauseous in vehicles it seemed our driver could not go fast enough for my liking.  With every second my anxiety threatened to break through the shield of nothingness my mind had devised to protect me from it.</p><p>	For the record, your auntie did apologize later on for implying I was some sort of heartless monster before.  She wasn't thinking, and honestly even when she said that I didn't have it in me to be cross at her.  There is no script for life in general; let alone situations so intense.  She did her best given the high tensions.</p><p>	And anyway, I did feel like heartless monster.  Not for being unable to react; that out of my control.  But for having contributed to Katherine's decision.  I had no need to sepak to her to understand why she had chosen to return to her grave.  While there were many other intrincate details it was obvious to me that every word we had hurled her way had become a stepping stone guiding her to dream's end.  I put her on that path myself.  If that does not constitute a monster then what does?</p><p>	As you may be gathering all the work we had done for months, ever since Lina's anxiety crisis, to interiorize that “bad people do not feel remorse about their deeds” went out the window.  Our cruelty had almost snatched Kitty from us.  For the longest of times it felt like there was no possible redemption for us; and I still do wonder if there is.  As much as your auntie insisted that her decision was her own I cannot help but realize what sentiments helped her reach such a conclusion.</p><p>	The Mae I know as I am writing this, my six year-old princess, believes that words can harm and heal equally.  That an apology, or an acknowledgement of a mistake, can wash away the wounds harsher words caused.  By the time you read this, whoever it is you have blossomed into, I am certain you are aware of the reality that sometimes words cannot mend.  Some scars run too deep.  And as much as we had showered Katherine with affection and understanding, especially since the household-wide truce, it was far too late.  </p><p>	The damage was done and the one to suffer the consequences was your auntie.  The further I get into our story the more I ask myself if it will change the way you see me.  For you now I am your hero, the person who can help you through absolutely everything.  You run to me when you have a nightmare, you hide behind me when you are afraid.  What will this tale tell you about me?  The reality that all children must come to terms with as they grow up that their parents are flawed as anyone else?  That of a villain who hurt innocent people and the world is objectively better off without?  Perhaps an antihero of sorts who did both good and bad?</p><p>	I am sorry.  I must pose these questions now, as otherwise I will never be able to ask.  Know that whatever it is you end up thinking of me I understand.  From the worst to the best assumptions; it is fine.  There are no incorrect answers and no wrong feelings.  Believe what you must, I am not writing this to garner your sympathy or animosity.  I am explaining your origins to you and writing the farewell I never got to say to your young self.  That is all.</p><p>	When Jane and I arrived Anna had already texted us which waiting room she was in.  Lina, after Anne accidentally pushed her too far, had fallen into another “anxiety crisis” with “hallucinations” due to stress, apparently.  Which is the way medical professionals interpreted Lina calling out to some invisible María.  Though she was promptly sedated until the “episode” subsided, Lina later on told us the rest of her early death day played out in her subconscious so vividly she was unaware of being asleep.  There is no escaping them; one way or another.  As for Anne, she had gone to look after Lina, feeling responsible for her suffering.</p><p>	It is hard to say if she truly was, though.  On one hand she controlled herself rather poorly; but on the other there is no saying Lina wasn't already bound to have an early death day after finding what looked hauntingly like Katherine's corpse in a park and then assuming she had passed away.  Either way, Anne went with her, panic texting your mother frequently for updates.</p><p>	But that was the problem: there were none.  Every time a nurse left the ER Anna asked, walking with them as to not slow them down.  But “She's still in surgery” was the most descript response she got.</p><p>	Your mother looked dreadful.  Have you ever seen a discarded snake skin after they shed it?  It looks eerily like a snake, but it is hollow.  You can see it houses no life yet it appears that it should.</p><p>	That is the best comparison I can come up with.  Through reddened eyes your mother looked at us, but barely acknowledged us.  Her breathing was ragged, her nails bitten to the quick.  Jane and I sat on either side of her.  I must say having my hands occupied and my hearing muffled helped.  I could still feel the agonizing pain of a post-partum infection that was ready to reap my soul; but it was temporarily manageable.  My eyes were trained on the ER doors, waiting for them to open.</p><p>	I made no efforts to speak; that would have been pointless.  I limited myself to gingerly resting a hand on your mother's shoulder.  Even if my throat hadn't closed up words were meaningless.  Just as they cannot right all wrongs they cannot comfort every brand of pain.  Jane was trying to get out sweet nothings in between harsh inhales and barely stiffled sobs, but it was a useless waste of energy.</p><p>	There aren't many things I can tell you about waiting in a hospital.  It feels eternal, your mind races until it stills and then repeats the cycle.  Every opening door, every nurse or doctor that walks by sparks hope that crumbles to dust when they have no news about your loved ones.  Waiting is a vast expanse of nothingness and I believe that that is the best way I can describe it.</p><p>	We waited for five hours.  In that time the adrenaline evaporated and we began taking turns lest another of us have “an anxiety crisis” as well.  Soon enough I was asked to remain outside.  Without adrenaline to cushion my senses the bright lights coupled with the cramps apparently made me pale.  </p><p>	Despite the omnipresent fear and thoughts of Katherine my mind strayed quite a lot over to what Anne had described as “a second death day.”  Seeing as it was the first time it happened we had no way of knowing stress could trigger it.  In a mix of both anxiety and desperately trying to divert my attention from how long your auntie had been in the ER for, I tried to find the logic behind Lina's second death day.  If anything from the dates added up; or perhaps something related to astrology?  I don't even believe in astrology, this proves how desperate I was to think of anything except Katherine in a hospital bed.</p><p>	Eventually auntie Anne realized that if Lina was indeed having a second death day she was bound to be exhausted.  Anne had stayed with her long past the time in which Lina “died” and she gave no signs of being anywhere near awake.  The combination of tiredness and the anxiolytic she'd been administered were sure to keep her asleep for several hours; so Anne returned to our waiting room and insisted on being the only person there, promising to call us as soon as she knew anything.</p><p>	Jane and your mother joined me outside when they were shooed out by Anne.  It seemed as if the agonizing wait were draining years from their lives; but I assume I did not look much better myself.  There is a certain helplessness in only being able to wait that few other things can cause.  The powerlessness of sitting idle and hoping for the best alone is consuming.</p><p>	We sat in silence; which at some point was abruptly broken by Anna bursting into a fit of tears and a string of curse words.  She was angry, so so angry.  Her rage had no clear target then and there, too focused on her worry for Katherine.  When, with a shuddering breath, she returned to her previous apathy as if nothing had happened, Jane put an arm around her.  </p><p>	While not in the mood to touch anyone myself I figured I had to do something.  I was at the very least a part of, if not the biggest reason, Katherine was fighting for her life (assuming that she was, that she had not given up.  I consistently ignored that thought every time it came).  The bare minimum I could do was try comforting Anna; the only innocent in that situation.</p><p>	If I could not speak and I could not touch her then I had to do something else.  The only thing that came to mind was sharing part of my bundle of yarn with her.  What?  I had no clue I was stimming.  Your auntie's stims are mostly visual rather than tactile and I had no reason to believe I had ADHD nor did I know anything about ASD.  As far as I knew back then everyone found the texture of yarn soothing and grounding.</p><p>	Anna did not notice I had handed her anything until days later, when she took that particular outfit to the washing machine and found it in a pocket.  She held on to it with the intention of returning it, since I had what she saw as “an unnatural affinity towards yarn”; but in the end she kept it.  I do not know why, the most insight she has ever offered on this topic is “Let's say it was our literal string of fate” with that sweet smile of hers.  To be fair it was red.  I assume it was simply one of those logicless things one does when she's in love.  I have done my fair share of arbitrary actions due to my affection for your mother.</p><p>	Without any noticeable prompt, your mother asked in a cracked voice if it was her fault.  If she had been a bad presence for Katherine, especially since she seemed to believe Anna honestly had not cared when she died in our first life.  It was then, through all her uncertainty and anguish, that Jane confessed what she had seen in Anna's waiting room when she collapsed due to her ED.  How Kitty sang for her and held onto her as if for dear life.</p><p>	“She needs you, Anna.  Don't doubt it love.”</p><p>	As your mother took in Jane's words Anne texted us at long last to go back in.  Just a minute earlier Jane had gone to check up on Lina.  Anna called her on her way to the waiting room, walking faster than I could follow her.  She would not have moved quicker if she were being reeled into the building.</p><p>	Nothing in this life has made me feel the relief that hearing “She made it” brought me.  It was dizzying, as if the only thing keeping me on my feet had been anticipation.  However the news was only partly good, given that Katherine was alive but far from out of danger.  The first 48 hours would be crucial and the coma she was in was not induced.  </p><p>	Still, despite the looming date of two days hanging above us, that she was alive was the best news.  The only person who could visit her while in the ER was Anna; since Katherine had no direct family and Anna was her legal guardian.  She walked into that room a happy, teary mess; then returned five minutes later as if she had seen a ghost.</p><p>	While I only saw Katherine once she was moved out of the ER three days later I can attest to how broken and weak she looked.  Her appearance fresh out of a five hour-long surgery must have been even more vulnerable.  The small hope that Katherine would be alright was put out like a match for Anna when she saw her girl.  The prospect of her making a full recovery vanished, leaving her stranded in a deeper pit of despair.</p><p>	Anna refused to leave the hospital.  She was not allowed in the ER; but she wanted to be there in case Katherine opened her eyes.  What if she asked for Anna and she wasn't there?</p><p>	Worst of all, and the option that again nobody wished to acknowledge, what if those precious minutes were the last she had with to spend with Kitty?</p><p>	Anne insisted she should stay, since she was the only person who was not averse to hospitals.  Yet Anna and Jane would not allow it.  It made sense perhaps; but she was still recovering from sepsis.  Though she was feeling incredibly better she could not stay the night; at the very least not until she got some decent rest.  Maybe just maybe she could stay the following night.  And Anna would remain beside her regardless.</p><p>	I wanted to stay with Lina, but Anne talked me out of it as well.  I was unable to speak, I had to text my request.  I would be of no assistance to Lina in those conditions; let alone what the stress of being forced to interact with nurses could do to me.  Anne called a taxi and the two of us headed home.</p><p>	While Anne slept close to thirteen hours due to exhaustion and emotional exertion I did not get a wink.  I made myself a pot of coffee, grabbed my phone charger and waited some more.  I needed updates, if only that nothing had changed.  Some times no news is the best news.  But only Jane was answering.  Anna had run out of battery, she said; yet that couldn't be: my texts were getting through just fine.</p><p>	I would not get an explanation until they returned in the morning.  The night at home was eventless save for Anne waking up at around 4 AM, coming to my room and crashing on my bed instead of being alone.  She had brought another of Katherine's pillows with her.  Since I had no intention of sleeping I did not particularly mind my bed's invasion.  I kept her company until she fell asleep again to let her know she wasn't by herself.</p><p>	A night is generally perceived as quick if one is sleeping and unaware of the passing of time; yet seconds unfurl into minutes when we are unable to rest.  Those minutes become hours in a hospital when you fear that every entrance and exit from a nurse or doctor to the ER may be your daughter dying.  Anna had a lot of time to think that night and she finally realized who it was she was cross at.  </p><p>	At first she had considered Katherine; since she had promised Anna they would always be together when we found out about her eating disorder two months prior, but that was not the case.  No, Kitty was the victim in all that.  Those who Anna's rage was aimed at were the rest of us.  The people who had shoved Katherine into chasm of self-loathing and insults.  Vile words that had crawled under her skin and tained her her, blinding her to the truth.  That was the reason Anna did not reply to my texts.  If I was worried then it was what I deserved.</p><p>	Your mother felt terrible about that later, and will occasionally still apologize for it if she remembers.  I cannot find it to be out of line, though.  If the others had told you half the things I told Katherine I would be lying if I said I would not hate them.  At least for a while.</p><p>	As for Lina, she woke up in the morning most disoriented.  She had gone through her death day and instead of seeing the other five of us crowded around her ready to care for her as we had Anne and Anna she was alone in a hospital bed.  Why was that?  Had we left her?  If she had been physically affected by her death day was she going to die once more?  And if so why wasn't anyone with her?  We hadn't left anyone alone in a hospital to date.</p><p>	She'd been blocking out the events of the previous day.  They came crashing back when Jane went to see her after a nurse informed her Lina was awake and told her “She's alive.”  It would seem I was far from the only one of us who felt responsible for Katherine's inability to find her life to be precious.  Lina told Jane (and never clarified whether she meant it or got carried away by grief and anxiety) she wished her death day had truly whisked her away rather than living with the guilt she felt.  </p><p>	The three of them went back home in the morning.  I was still awake, I had made breakfast for everyone, but Anna all but shoved by me and went straight to sleep.  I was glad to see Lina feeling better, but that was the extent of the positive emotions I could feel.  When Jane told us how Anna had blamed her the most of us (“Nobody cared when you died”, coupled with Katherine's certainty that that had indeed been the case, made your mother despise Jane above the rest) Lina and I understood.  There was no feeling of it being unfair or unwarranted.  We unanimously agreed it was well earned.</p><p>	Though I still believe as of now that though Jane's words were the harshest it was I who hurt Katherine the most.  My animosity towards her lasted longer than the rest's; and while they said cruel sentences they were all one-offs (especially Anne and Jane, who are known for speaking out of line when under stress).</p><p>	At lunch that day the five of us were at the kitchen table.  Anne had just woken up, as had auntie Jane and your mother.  Lina was still recovering from her second death day and I was frankly too tired to even consider stepping foot in the hospital.  It was then Anna told us how she wished she hadn't met us before taking her plate to her room.  </p><p>	There were mixed reactions despite the comprehension.  Jane burst into tears once more, Lina and I kept a more neutral exterior and Annie punched her glass clean off the table.  She felt inhuman for having said such a thing to her cousin and not even remembering it.</p><p>	Three days after her attempt to end her life Katherine was out of danger and left the ER.  Once she was in a room visits were allowed.  In those three days your mother cooled down.  It was most likely related to Anne barely eating due to the guilt, which in turn made her weak since she was still recovering from a blood infection and consequently almost fainting.  While Anna could not forgive (and I doubt she ever has) what we said to Katherine she was aware we had payed the price of our actions tenfold.  Lina had night terrors more violent than before and they no longer revolved around her past life (all she saw was Katherine in the park), Jane looked like a puppet without strings, I rarely left my room and Anne's stomach had closed with stress.  We were hurting, and we loved Katherine.  She loved us as well, and Anna did too regardless of her raging feelings.</p><p>	There seemed to be no amount of apologies Anna considered to be sufficient in the weeks, and even months that followed.  She could not reassure us enough that she should not have held us accountable and we could not stress enough that she had no need to apologize for being correct.</p><p>	Lina and Jane had spent the night at the hospital when Katherine was moved to a regular room, so they were already there when the rest of us arrived.  The nurse insisted no more than two of us enter at a time, but once she left your mother said if Katherine could indeed hear us she would need all the support we could offer, so we all went inside.</p><p>	Your auntie looked like a paper doll, Mae.  As if any gust of wind could knock her over.  She had lost weight in three days and her cheeks were sunken, she was almost as pale as the sheets.  The scent of sanitized everything, the bubbling of oxygen...  The room felt claustrophobic.  The only thing that kept me there was the rythmic beeping of her heart monitor.  She was alive.  She looked like a ghost, but she was clinging to life.  For some reason or some other she was tethered here.</p><p>	The regular beeping of her heart monitor was the most comforting sound in the world.  I never wanted to stop hearing it.</p><p>	We talked to her as much as we could, eventually taking turns in case the nurse returned to check out her IVs and scolded us.  We told her everything we could think about; from how sunny it was outside and how gorgeous the flowers in the courtyard looked to how beloved and dear she was to us.  That we needed her to open her eyes and come back home.</p><p>	Needless to say, I had a letter for her in case words failed me.  They did, so it was nice to have a crutch.  The sight of her edging death filled me with the same ice that had pumped through my veins when we discovered she had been hurting herself.  But if anything the nasty sensation was heightened by the rollercoaster of emotions the previous days had been.</p><p>	We all held her hand at different points, careful not to move the needles in them.  There were tears, there were messy apologies and overall one single sentiment: that she ought to wake up so we could let her know just how invaluably precious she was.</p><p>	It took another two days for her to regain consciousness.  It was September 1st and we had gone back to our jobs.  In the five days Katherine was in a coma her case worker was livid.  She let us know without room for interpretation that, if when examined by a professional, we had had the slightest to do with the reason your auntie attempted suicide, we would never see her again.  It added yet another layer to the anxiety we were already suffocating under.  But, to ease your concerns, the opposite was established: that Katherine had tried ending it all because she did not feel deserving of the loving household she was in.  In a very twisted way it made the adoption process easier.</p><p>	I was the first one to arrive at the hospital, since I was working from home.  I was nervous, fearing I would not know what to say, but I needed to see her.  Even if my vocal cords froze I needed her to be certain she was not alone.</p><p>	In all honesty, I had kind of been expecting to find her sitting up in bed like in movies, ready to discuss whichever feelings were gnawing at her.  But that only happens because a runtime of 120 minutes is not enough to cover how agonizingly slow recovery is.  Until that moment my sole reference point for such matters was Anne; but despite the extent of her ailment she hadn't been in a coma half as long as Katherine.</p><p>	And what Kitty had done to herself was only arguably less severe than Anne's sepsis.</p><p>	I entered the room with my heart pounding, then deflated a little to see your auntie still laying down, pale as I had last seen her.  Her movements were sluggish and her voice raspy as she managed to choke out a quiet “Hey.”</p><p>	That syllable alone was enough to finish craking the barrier around my emotions.  All that had been pooling under the ice flooded through the surface in the form of tears and what I recall as barely comprehensible apologies.  I had been picturing for days that when she woke up Katherine would be cross at us; at me.  On the way to the hospital I'd been preparing myself for her scorn and rejection.  Yet the moment I broke down after hearing her friendly greeting Katherine extended a hand towards me and beconed.  She wanted me to sit with her.</p><p>	Undeserving as I may have been of that I was in no position to deny her anything.  I assumed she must want some company.  What I hadn't considered was that, with a pained groan, she would difficultly prop herself upright and cling on to me.  More letting her weight fall on me than embracing me, but a hug all the same.</p><p>	“Shhh, it's okay.  I'm sorry too.”</p><p>	For once since waking up the exact opposite of a non verbal episode was on its way: I had too much to say and a jaw that could not keep up pace.  She had nothing to be sorry for, she should be angry at me instead of comforting me, I had missed her so dearly, I was happy to see her awake...  All while holding her desperately, feeling the rise and fall of her shoulders against me as she breathed entirely on her own for the first time in five days.  She was alive.  Through my barrage of words that thought repeated itself over and over in my mind.  Nothing else mattered.</p><p>	“Picture a machine gun but shooting words instead of bullets: that's how fast you were talking.  I didn't understand half of it” she told me later on.</p><p>	Who cared about speaking at a civilized rhythm?  My little kitten was back.</p><p>	Eventually I ran out of words despite having so much more to say.  Notably that I was terrified, that I wanted to know how she would progress from there, what steps had to be taken.  But fear could wait, pushed to the side by relief instead of adrenaline for a change.  When Katherine got tired and laid back down again she kept a very loose grip around my fingers.</p><p>	Loose as it was it was a blessing.  Every time I had held her petite hand and it had remained limp it had felt like grasping a dying girl.</p><p>	She did not talk much as her throat and organs slowly got used to consciousness once more.  By the time Jane arrived, not caring in the slightest about having to close shop on the first day since summer vacation, Katherine was deep asleep once more.</p><p>	After I told her it would seem that Katherine was not mad at us, Jane got a bit uncomfortable.</p><p>	“...You don't suppose she still believes all the crap we said, right?” she asked, her eyes trained on Kitty's sleeping face.  </p><p>	I did not know how Katherine was expected to change her mind while in a coma, but I remained silent.  Often times my honest thoughts upset people and I did not know why (the concept of being “too blunt” is still strange to me), so I preferred keeping my mouth shut.  I did not want to agitate Katherine.</p><p>	She was still resting when Lina arrived a few minutes before your mother and auntie Anne burst through the door.  Before Anna asked I got up, giving her my spot.  Not only did she deserve it more, I figured Katherine would be happiest to find her when she opened her eyes again.  When she did so a few minutes later the room became a cacophony of greetings and words of love and encouragement.  Everyone wanted to spend some time with Kitty and your auntie extended a hand to whoever spoke to her, trying to hold everyone in one way or another.</p><p>	Anna spent by far the longest time with her, as was to be expected.  Katherine made the effort of sitting up for her as well, leaning against her far longer than she had with me.  </p><p>	That room turned from the most devastating to the happiest place on Earth as soon as your auntie woke up, Mae.  It was even hard to tell I was in a hospital for a long while.  If a silly meme board had been enough to distract Anna from her phantom pains then Katherine's smile and her voice, broken as it may be, felt strong enough to ward off my death day as a whole.</p><p>	An exaggeration, obviously, but it did feel that way.  As if all I needed to be alright was staying in your auntie's bright presence.</p><p>	Soon enough Katherine's doctor came, glad to see all of us and most of all your auntie's tired yet undeniably happy smile.  He asked to speak to Anna outside and Anne was more than glad to replace her on Kitty's side.  Your auntie, being herself, went above and beyond just sitting beside her little cousin and straight up laid down with her.  Carefully though.</p><p>	I could not tell you of a single thing that was talked about when we were all together.  It had only been five days of us being apart, of our house being one member short, but it had seemed like weeks.  Most of what we were saying was pointless or entirely unrelated to the previous topics that had been discussed.  At least for me I was content just listening to Katherine's voice, and I am fairly sure that was the main part for the others as well.</p><p>	She was still with us, still there, and if we had a say in it nobody and nothing would ever take her away from us again.  Five days had been more than enough to know that a life without Katherine was hollow.  As much as the rest of us loved each other, we were a unit of six, an undivisable pack.  We were a family, and family needs everyone.</p><p>	For the record, auntie Kitty had no memories of the five days she was unconscious.  No hazy dreams, no spiritual experiences.  It had been like falling asleep at dream's end and then waking up in the hospital as if no time had passed and she'd simply taken a nap.  She did not even recall Lina talking to her while she was apparently conscious on the way to the ambulance.</p><p>	When Anna returned to the room she was smiling, but the others would later describe it as a sad grin.  She had just been informed that the rest of the time Katherine would be in the hospital as she recovered would be spent in the psychology wing.  In that time she would be placed under the care of specialists and they would also evaluate whether she would be better off with us or in another home.  Needless to say, she would not be allowed visits.</p><p>	That last part your mother told us on the way back home.  When she explained what would happen to Katherine the girl got upset fast.  She did not want to be away from us; let alone through recovery.  Had Anna told her that she would potentially be definitively taken away she would have sunken your auntie, so your mother smiled through the pain and limited herself to reassuring Kitty that she needed those days to be taken care of.  She had done something very grave and it was obvious she needed help.  Urgently.</p><p>	In the end Katherine conceded.  When she had woken up before I arrived she had expected that we would either be cross at her for making us worry or assume she had done it for attention and ignore her.  She could not conceive that we would be relieved to see her again, to hear her.  She still did not understand why we cared about her, but given that it was undeniable we did she wanted to understand the reasoning behind it.  She did not wish to put us through such strain ever again, so for our sake more than her own she accepted the treatment without putting up resistence.</p><p>	While not an ideal motive, better than outright refusal.  It was enough.</p><p>	Leaving her room knowing that it would be a while until we saw her again hurt.  We all said goodbye to her, with Anna staying in the room the longest.  Before I joined the others outside I stopped to give your auntie's hand one last squeeze.  With about as much force as a mouse may have, she brought my hand up to her cheek and nuzzled it.</p><p>	“Take care, alright Cathy?  I love you.”</p><p>	In all honesty, I was the one who did not understand why she cared about me.  There were no reasons for her to do so.  Instead it was her mind that twisted reality into a dark sight and prevented her from knowing how easy she was to love.</p><p>	The five days she had been in a coma for were but an appetizer for the three weeks she was interned for.  Three weeks in which the house was noticeably vacant.  Nobody was curled up against Anna when we watched movies.  Lina had stopped watching documentaries altogether, finding them boring without Katherine's commentary.  Anne spent longer shifts at the clinic despite her almost constant dizziness.  Jane continued baking, but she did not make apple pie without Katherine.  That was for the day she returned, Jane said.  Not a second earlier.</p><p>	As for myself, it was hard to find motivation to do much more than what was strictly necessary, really.  At night I heard my own voice insulting Katherine and during the day I expected to find her in every room only to be constantly reminded of the route she had taken and where it had landed her.  </p><p>	And that regardless of what anyone said, in part it was my fault.  Looking back on it I am positive that those were the weeks in which I started sleeping more.  Hearing my cruel words on repeat in my dreams was a curse, but one I felt was earned.  And even if it was not it was better than thinking about Katherine during my every waking breath, wanting nothing more than to hold her.</p><p>	My death day went by without her.  It was as bad of an experience as I had anticipated; and for as much as your mother an your aunties took care of me I missed Katherine's weight in my arms all day long.</p><p>	I also cried myself to sleep thinking about you; but please hold on my little one.  Soon I will delve a bit deeper into that and just a bit later we will reach the point in which you and your siblings returned to us.</p><p>	The only news we got from Katherine were the weekly updates.  They were not very promising the first week, only slightly positive the second and by the third she had been prescribed anti-depressants, anxiolytics and biweekly appointments with her therapist.</p><p>	For as much as we missed Kitty in those three weeks her experience from within the psychology wing was different.  At first she was terrified, uncertain of what to tell her psychologist.  How could she explain that she felt responsible for the abuse she had endured from dead men?  Or that she had been queen five centuries prior and her Lady in Waiting had been executed after her?</p><p>	The one thing that we found out thanks to this incident is that our XXIst century lives are, in ways, hauntingly similar to that of our first ones.  Katherine had indeed come from a neglectful family, hence why she was in the foster system, and had been hurt by multiple of her caretakers.  Eventually one of them tried killing her, explaining the scar around her neck, and succeeded in murdering the older girl he was also fostering, whose name happened to be Jane Parker.</p><p>	Your auntie knew none of this until her psychologist began asking her about these people.  He would ask about a man called Francis and Katherine's memories from this life flooded in.  Though they felt more like vivid dreams than actual memories.</p><p>	After discovering this and delving into our own lives we also found that all of them had striking similarities to our original ones; but those are stories in and of their own.  A modern adaptation, if you will.</p><p>	For how much the media demonizes psychology wards in hospitals they were greatly beneficial days for Katherine.  Granted so-called medical professionals can commit  atrocities; but that isn't always the case.  Katherine's therapist quite literally helped her see the value in life for her.</p><p>	I pose to you a question, Mae: what is the purpose of life?  We all know that anything we do anyone else could; yet we also know that to us the people we care for are irreplaceable.  While I am positive there are many sweet teenage girls like Katherine the one I missed was her specifically.  As much as you love your aunties it was Jane you cried for after she died.  </p><p>	That question will have a different answer for every person on this planet; and there are no wrong answers as long as they are not harming anyone else.  It is a conclusion everyone has to come to and consequently strive to achieve.  For some it may be glory, for others it may be leaving a noticeable dent in the world, and for some it is something deemed “menial”, like say having a successful pie shop to make people happier in their daily lives; just to name some examples.</p><p>	Whatever it is to you I wish you the best of luck in your endeavours, my girl.  For me it has always been educating people to be kinder through my writing tied with being good for my family.  It is not fame I seek with each published book.  Just to make our society more understanding and keep it from repeating mistakes from the past.  I wish not to be there for you all out of a sense of obligation; but rather because I want to and every second I spend with you is as well spent as it could be.</p><p>	What Katherine found out during her stay, other than a whole lot of much needed deconstructing negative ideas in her mind, was that life need not have a point.  All she wanted to do was make people's lives better.  She could not change the world, of that she was well aware, but she could be fiercely kind and support those she loved.</p><p>	In other words, being with us and helping us (as well as anyone else; she helped so many strangers in random acts of kindness) was what she sought from life.  Because, in her words, “Nobody else had cared about her nor made her happy.  The least she could do was return the favour.”</p><p>	It was no favour, Mae.  Your auntie was a blessing.  Being with her was a gift.</p><p>	It became less a matter of understanding why we loved her and instead simply accepting it.  Over the years she came to terms with the fact that she had been taken advantage of, that she could not be held accountable.  That is not to say her recovery was linear and as I have stated before she never truly recovered.  But she did get better.  Perhaps as well as she could have gotten, given the circumstances.</p><p>	Of course, with acceptance of her trauma rather than radical denial also came understanding that we had been cruel to her.  Except for your mother, of course.  Thoughts that Katherine never shared with her therapist for as long as she was a minor in fear of being taken away, but that hurt her just the same.  Katherine's relationship with us was very complex.  She loved us to death, but never really forgave us for what we'd said once she realized how unfair and messed up it really had been.</p><p>	There was a permanent current of anger within her that would come out at the most random moments.  Some times she felt bad for her outbursts, others she did not.  Unlike her go-to phrase when cornered (“I don't need any of you”), which she always regretted, her spikes of rage some times garnered no remorse from her.  While at times that made her feel like a bad person she generally came to understand that she had every right to be angry and was under no obligation of forgiving us.</p><p>	It stung, Mae, but what can I say?  Our bonds with Katherine were like a shattered vase glued together.  The marks were still there, they never left.  We could not pretend they had been undamaged.</p><p>	Despite that your auntie was aware that we regretted our actions, no longer stood by them and loved her with the same intensity she did us.  For the most part we were okay; and when we were not we all knew that our love was stronger than whichever storms came.  </p><p>	Strained as our relationships with Kitty could get at times I remember one moment vividly.  She had told me she did not need me a few months before her death both because I accidentally bothered her somehow (I do not remember the details that well, sorry) and because she was having an off day and was angry at the world and what it had done to her and, by proxy, at us for what we'd said.</p><p>	Close to midnight she came to my den.  I was still working, so you and your mother were in the bedroom already.  Katherine stood before me, put the tips of her fingers together and took a deep breath.</p><p>	“No matter how angry I get, I would do it all over again.  I thought you'd like to know.”</p><p>	She meant meeting us and being reincarnated.  Despite the death days and the bumps along the road (more than those I have told you about, but I will elaborate in a bit) this second life was still precious enough to Katherine to go through the pain again.</p><p>	“I would do it a thousand times if it meant I got to meet you in every life” was what she said when I asked her to explain.  She then gave me a kiss on the forehead, reminded me that she loved me and the others (including you children) more than anything in the world and returned to her room.</p><p>	It brings me great comfort to know that, other than having caused her pain, the mark I left in Katherine's life was overwhelmingly positive.  I too would do it all over again if I got even one more day with all of you out of it, my princess.</p><p>	I do not think we have ever been a perfect family; but we are perfect for each other.  That is more than enough.</p><p>	Your auntie was discharged on September 25th.  It was a Friday and rare have been the occasions in which everyone returned home from work so fast.  As I said earlier, Katherine was allowed to remain with Anna and us as long as we kept a watchful eye on her and no such thing happened ever again (it did not).  And since everyone was working until the afternoon I was the one to escort Katherine back home.</p><p>	After asking for permission to embrace me she almost knocked me off my feet with the hug she gave me.  Conflicting feelings and all there are no doubts within me that Katherine loved me as deeply as I cared for her.  Even though at the time it still felt undeserved (who am I kidding?  As I am writing this years later I am still convinced I did not deserve her affection) nothing would have made me happier.  That was my Kitty, my sweet family member, my beloved friend.  She was on her feet, alive and happy to see me.  I would not ask for more.</p><p>	Despite her energy and glee she still had a long road to physically recover from the ordeal.  She would not return to school until second term began after Christmas break and had regular check-ups and blood tests to make sure everything was going well.</p><p>	All the trip back home she curled up against me on the taxi, asking me about everyone and myself.  She was asking so many questions she did not give me time to reply to all, but that was the opposite of a problem.  Her weight on my side, her voice, her scent...  She was real, she was there, she was doing better and for some reason she loved me.</p><p>	I will make a small lull here to draw a comparison between auntie Kitty and, funnily enough, an actual cat.  Before our cat we had another.  You were so young I doubt you remember, but she was probably the best behaved cat I have ever met.  We found her in the middle of a storm one night, meowing desperately in our garden, and we let her in.  Lizzie called her Gabi.  </p><p>	The problem was that while Gabi was a dream cat in every sense of the word, at the time Eddie had a budgie, Ray.  Gabi was perfect for humans but her instincts got the best of her constantly.  There were no lengths she would not go to to hunt the poor bird.  We had had that animal for over a year and not just Eddie but all of us were fond of him.  He was a spectacular animal.  He was so smart he realized his screeches bothered me, as I always left the room when he got loud, and eventually he learnt to shut up when I entered the room if he wanted to be with me.  </p><p>	Which does not mean that he did not also use that knowledge to his advantage to get rid of me when he was not in the mood to be accompanied.  He was brilliant and loving.</p><p>	Of course, we could not risk losing Ray to Gabi, so after four months of trying everything and anything to try getting her to leave the bird alone, we had to give Gabi away.  It was a tear fest.  Ironically, Ray died weeks after we gave her to her new family due to a lung disease.  Which is why we have Oscar now.</p><p>	Anyways, the night we met Gabi in that storm do you know what the first thing she did was when she stepped foot into our living room?  She looked at everyone, tail frazzled with fear, shrunk into herself, and flopped onto the floor with her stomach up.  As you well know from Oscar, cats do not do that unless they feel safe.</p><p>	Gabi, who had just seen us for the first time, did not feel safe with us.  No, instead she was displaying her vulnerability.  It was her way of getting a message across: “I am vulnerable and weak.  Please don't hurt me, I am counting on you.”</p><p>	That was the same behaviour your auntie Kitty displayed with us the day she returned home and in the ones that came after.  She was being aggressively affectionate by her standards, letting her guard down and being open about how much she cared for us and relied on us.  When I think back to the way Katherine clung to everyone in that time I am always, always reminded of Gabi's demonstration of weakness.</p><p>	A silent way of saying “I am putting my life in your hands.  I implore that you treat me carefully.”</p><p>	When at long last we were six again, when Katherine could be found anywhere in the house once more and her (in my opinion; to each their own) ridiculous pop songs filled the hallway when she was in her room, the best way I can describe the overall mood is overjoyed.  We were all looking for excuses to be with her, both trying to make up for lost time and to be certain that she really was back.  Anna almost did not leave Katherine's side unless she absolutely had to or Katherine wanted some alone time.  They discussed the adoption again, with Anna making it clear that if it would pressure Katherine they could pretend they had never thought of it.</p><p>	It is a bit sad that she felt the need to also specify that it did not have to be her who adopted Kitty.  If she would feel better with anyone else, Anna would not complain.  She said this during dinner one day.  Katherine rolled her eyes and pulled Anna into her arms.</p><p>	“I can imagine no one better for the job.”</p><p>	Still, to be sure that Katherine genuinely meant that, Anna insisted that she need not worry about “burdening” the rest of us; since we all loved her.  While true, Katherine only wanted Anna in that sense.</p><p>	In turn, that commentary sparked the inside joke of “Kitty's army of mothers”; which had some funny and not quite so ramifications.  Those will not be relevant until later, so I will ignore them for now.</p><p>	As happy as our household had become with Katherine's return, things were not right yet.  Other than the eternal guilt we felt (and continued to feel) about our implications in Katherine's attempted suicide, the issues that had taken a back seat while we were worried about her returned to the forefront.  Lina still had to sort her feelings towards Mary.  Jane had yet to come to terms with Eddie's short life.  Anne dealt with night terrors consistently.  Perhaps your mother was the one of us who recovered the fastest.  With Kitty beside her life seemed brighter.</p><p>	And do not get me wrong; that was indeed the case for all of us.  Working in my room with Katherine sitting on my bed behind me catching up on homework; or reading with her in my arms as we had before her hospitalization was pure bliss.  </p><p>	However, other than my once again consuming thoughts and theories about you, having your auntie back at all times of day became a bit of a double-edged blade.  Even when her “desperate affection” (as I have dubbed her very Gabi-like behaviour after she returned from the hospital) subsided into a more genuine love, she became a permanent reminder of what I had done.  Which in and of itself reminded me of the things that had happened to Lizzie under my care.  It would appear that I was incapable of caring for a single child in my life.</p><p>	It wasn't long before I came to the conclusion that chances were you had had a better, happier life without me.  That assuming Thomas hadn't taken care of you (I doubted the bastard had; he was too power hungry to care for a child) whoever had had been a good mother to you.  Better than I would have ever been.</p><p>	The only way I could think of mitigating that pain was pushing Katherine, and eventually everyone else, away from me.  Drowning myself in work so I had no time for thoughts.  I am not proud of it, Mae.  Never follow my example.</p><p>	With that said, my little girl, allow me to take you to the last stop from the beginning of our lives to the moment when you came back to us.  Before though, here is that redacted paragraph I promised assuming you haven't read any of this:</p><p>	In short, the trauma that your auntie lived through in her past life coupled with the cruelty we had exposed her to in her new one made her develop a very destructive coping mechanism.  After we found out your mother offered to adopt her to make it obvious that there were no circumstances under which she would ever stop loving her.  Katherine felt that Anna would tire of her and decided that she was doing us a bigger favour by leaving our lives.  In the end, after a succession of harmful decisions, your auntie wound up in the hospital and began therapy.  Her relationship with us was rocky afterwards but in the end she knew we loved her and we knew she did as well.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And done.  Hopefully next chapter will be less heavy and I do have a happy ending in mind for it.  Thank you so much for reading.  Interactions make me happy and constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated.  Thank you for sharing your thoughts.  Take care please, everyone, and I hope you have a wonderful day.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Insomnia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello!!  As usual thank you very much for every interaction, they make me very happy!! ^^</p><p>Secondly these chapters (yes two again i don't know how to measure things) came out much earlier than anticipated.  I've been sick at home for two weeks now, at first my GP suspected anemia but the blood draw came back fine so we're back at square 1.  Great /s.  Anyway, as a consequence of me having more free time than i'd like i had more time to write as well.  So yay?  Eh, i'll count it as a positive.  Writing this makes me happy, at least i found one good thing out of this mess of a situation.</p><p>Thing is when i release chapters so fast i'm always wondering if they're rushed or something, so mandatory disclaimer because i have crushing anxiety and insecurity: if this chapter isn't up to par (pun half intended) i'm very sorry but please let me know because i'm feeling better and i'll be able to do a better job soon perhaps i should've put off writing it but oh well as i said  i needed something good to latch onto.</p><p>Oh btw the next chapter is really short by my standards (less than 4000 words) and was going to be the ending of this one but it kinda didn't fit in with the theme of it being Cathy's chapter because it's about everyone not just her.  So there's that.  It's also 99.9% fluff with just a wee bit of angsty moments so there's the promised happy ending</p><p>Anyways enough of me rambling and onto the CWs:</p><p>-Insomnia<br/>-Caffeine addiction and withdrawal symptoms (not precisely non descript but also not really graphic)<br/>-Nightmares<br/>-Katherine's execution mentioned in a nightmare<br/>-Elizabeth and Thomas mentioned often (as usual nothing graphic)<br/>-Guilt<br/>-Not taking care of oneself<br/>-Paranoia caused by insomnia<br/>-Being kidnapped (Catherine Parr and her step children during her second marriage)<br/>-ASD character having sensory overload (not described and a blink-and-you'll-miss-it reference to a meltdown, implied)<br/>-Suicide attempt (last chapter's events mentioned but nothing graphic)<br/>-A brief mention of most everything that has happened up to date in one line (ED, sepsis)<br/>-Miscarriages (Anne's and Lina's, mentioned)<br/>-Survivor's guilt<br/>-People being ableist (nothing descriptive, one redacted slur)<br/>-ASD diagnosis (it can be an invasive process but it's just mentioned, not described)<br/>-Bessie Blount mentioned once<br/>-Jane's death day (mentioned, childbirth death)</p><p>And i'm 90% sure that's it?  If i missed something i'm so sorry i forgot to keep an ongoing list as i proof read this morning.</p><p>Okay, i hope you can enjoy!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I have been staring at the screen for the better part of half an hour now.  A less than promising start; but I guess it is fitting in a way.  Thus far I have been able to hide my feelings and reactions in between those of the others.  Even when discussing my involvement with Anne's daughter, or my role in convincing Katherine that she was not loved, those were technically their stories.  I was relatively comfortable deflecting the attention from myself.</p><p>	Also I had more to work with given that I was either an outsider looking in or someone living through those situations second hand.  My point of view in the story I am going to tell you now is quite biased.  Few things have made me feel as vulnerable and exposed as sitting here getting ready to tell my daughter about my own trauma and the way I process life.</p><p>	It is not because of you, my girl.  Or, more accurately, it is.  But not because I am uncomfortable with you; but rather because I fear that you will judge me.  A bit ridiculous now that I have narrated so many things I did not do right; but just the fact that this is about me and the other's suffering was my doing alone makes my stomach twist.</p><p>	Rambling aside, I believe I need to re-frame how I am going to tell you the following tale.  Seeing it as “my section” makes the words tangle up long before they reach my fingers.  Instead, if I may, I will present it as the finale to the first half of our story: how the six of us became the solid family you and your siblings know and love.  Granted most of the work was already done from the frankly exhausting first eleven months of our second lives; but we needed a final shove.</p><p>	“We needed” is a horrendous way of phrasing that, my apologies.  I considered rewriting it as a whole; but it presents an opportunity for me to mother you a little bit more.  No trauma is ever “necessary”, Mae.  Some people who have gone through traumatic events like finding a meaning in them and others do not.  Both are equally acceptable ways of confronting one's own demons.  However the implication that suffering, abuse or pain of any kind are mandatory is rather brutal, don't you think?</p><p>	I have a long list of things I want to address to the future you reading this memoir, my princess.  Consider this a sneak peek of what is to come from your oversensitive mother.  </p><p>	And, in all honesty, also me procrastinating beginning this next point.  Which sounds like writing this is causing me discomfort; but in reality it is not.  Yes, as I have reiterated many times now I find no pleasure delving into the painful memories.  But these last days I have left in this world before I join auntie Kitty and auntie Jane could not be better spent than reminiscing the life the ten of us had.  I will confront my fate with so many beautiful memories, my girl: of you and everyone else in the present; but also with those lovely snippets of the past I do not often dwell on.  Like how Janey made everyone feel better, or how we discovered Lina is secretly a cuddler, how auntie Kitty smiled...</p><p>	I will hold on to the good bits and despite what happens I will be alright.  Though by the time you read this you will no longer be a child and, as such, I will have no need to shield you from the upsetting truth that in all honesty I am afraid of what is to come.  I have no desire to leave anyone; you least of all.  Yet still there was some truth in how writing this is doing me good.  At the very least I will have heartwarming memories at the ready when the time comes.</p><p>	But I am getting needlessly grim before it is time.  I apologize.  Without further ado, allow me to reveal the final steps we took in knitting the family we are today.</p><p>	There is a lot I glossed over regarding what happened to auntie Kitty.  Firstly because it made me anxious to type and I had to take several breaks, resulting in accidentally leaving parts out; and secondly because if I had delved into every detail that came to mind this already long piece would be ten pages longer.  Yet still it was careless to a degree because the events that followed are intrinsically linked to the aftermath of that mess.</p><p>	Mostly, how after the omnipresent tension that had tinted those days faded, hostilities grew.  In all honesty, it felt like taking three steps back from the progress we had made. </p><p>	When loved ones are in danger it usually brings people closer together.  When other loved ones are at least in part responsible for said peril it frequently pushes the rest apart.</p><p>	It was not something anyone wished to address, yet it permeated our daily lives.  Anna avoided Lina and I as casually as she could.  I guess she could not unhear “the least relevant Katherine” or the amount of insults I had produced for Kitty.  Even I found myself coming up with reasons to steer clear from Lina, despite being the person who could criticise her the least without being hypocritical.</p><p>	Anne, when forced to choose between spending time with Anna or Lina, since both at once were no longer an option, chose Anna for the most part; which in turn stunted Anne's interactions with Lina to the awkwardness they'd had when they began speaking.</p><p>	Jane kept to herself.  She never said it out loud, at least as far I am concerned, but she attributed the most harm to herself (“no one cared when you died”).  Not just harm relating to Katherine; but to all the fallout everyone else had to deal with.  Even your mother, who did her best to be understanding with Anne since she had spoken without thinking, could not extend the same kindness to Jane.  If she chose to isolate herself, Anna did her best to ignore it.</p><p>	On her end, auntie Lina desperately tried to rebuild us all from the foundation again.  She had done a terrible thing, yes, but the prospect of being alone frightened her.  I felt horrible for being averse towards her when I had done no better.</p><p>	Katherine noticed more than she let on, as usual, but instead of drawing the right conclusion she became convinced she was to blame, since she had been unable to cope with her feelings in a healthier fashion.  A month of therapy can only do so much.  She could not unlearn five centuries of self-deprecation in a couple of sessions.</p><p>	And as for me, I too followed Jane's example and remained in the sidelines.  I was once again mostly limited to conversing with auntie Lina when we could stomach each other.  Both of us were relatively in the same boat as the only two who had been cruel knowingly and willingly.  Auntie Anne, with all her endless compassion, struggled to as much as say “Good morning” to me naturally.</p><p>	Please do not blame any of them.  What Katherine did had severe consequences for everyone; we all loved her to the moon and back.  Witnessing her lay in death's maw and knowing that she had just barely escaped it by the skin of her teeth was scarring in its own right.</p><p>	What you must understand is that what your auntie did...  Objectively it could not be pinned on any single one of us.  Yes, we had indeed contributed I will not deny it; but her unhealthy mindset came from much further back and an even wider series of events.  It would be near-sighted to blame exclusively Jane, or myself, or both.  It would disregard a great portion of the issues that Katherine needed help with and had to address.</p><p>	Despite that it was far too frequent that the words “no one cared when you died” echoed in my mind whenever I crossed paths with Jane.  Or that, after seeing Katherine stumble because she was still weak, I would hear “my beheading was the result of actual trauma, abuse and manipulation.”  Obviously in those instances my anger would be directed specifically at one of your aunties or to me (which made living together so much harder) but rationally I knew it was, to a degree, unfair to dump all the pain Katherine's breakdown had caused on any on them, or I, alone.</p><p>	It was unbearably messy, my girl.  None of us hid our accountability, but occasionally one of us would go a bit far in a sudden spur of anger and be needlessly cold or vicious to another.  As Katherine herself put it once, the scars she had ran much deeper than what we did: we barely scratched at the surface with our actions.</p><p>	Her words remain hard to believe to this day.  I cannot look back on the ruthlessness with which I spoke to her the first weeks after waking up and sincerely believe that I “barely scratched the surface”.  Then again, knowing what I do about her past life I do wonder if the way she perceived it was indeed just a superficial wound on top of a hill of scar tissue.</p><p>	Yes, I think I have it.  It was a matter of perception: for us, especially those of us who had but a small portion of Katherine's story, our perception of events was inherently reductionist.  We had hurt Katherine, she had then hurt herself, ergo we were to blame.  In a sense true; but there was so much more.  Had our claims been the first to harm her I doubt she would have come undone.  Had we been the first people to disregard her she would have rolled her eyes, aware of her own worth, and latched onto Anna's positive presence.</p><p>	This is not a complex way of me saying “so long story short, your aunties and I threw little pebbles in a pond full of rocks and hence we are innocent.”  I will not remove any of our accountability: even if they were pebbles the smallest stone can breach the surface if enough others are beneath it.  That Katherine was on the edge of her tipping point and we dealt a tiny yet devastating push does not make it any better.  We did what we did and our actions sadly had consequences.</p><p>	No, the point I am trying to illustrate is how we lived through those days: I believe we would have disliked each other a lot less if we had all been able to segregate our perception of the situation from the objective reality.  Katherine was on a path to self-destruction that we had paved the way for; but not built.  We finished what others began.  Had we been capable of looking at it from that angle we would have still felt terrible but I am quite certain we would not have regarded anyone as “the guilty one”.  </p><p>	Other than showing you the events that lead to our next bad moment I am also attempting to portray Katherine's perspective: she knew better than any of us what burden she carried.  While Anne saw Jane's “nobody cared when you died” or Lina's “the least relevant Katherine” as the direct precusors of her baby cousin's suicide attempt Katherine remembered their words and the pain they had caused; but more than that she recalled the memories they had brought to surface.  The voices of dead men who whispered in her ear reminding her that to them and everyone else she was worthless.</p><p>	A matter of perception, my girl.  I feel like I am trying to justify my innocence in this affair and it feels gross.  I am not, I promise.  I am trying to be as impartial as I can here and where I still feel mostly responsible for Katherine's downfall your auntie never quite saw me like that.  In a way it mirrors my perception of my inability to protect Lizzie with her perception of me doing the best I could to assist her.</p><p>	The abridged version of this ramble is: we saw each other and ourselves as the ones to blame for everything that had gone wrong for Katherine.  It strained our bonds and did not help your auntie in the slightest.</p><p>	“...It kind of seemed like you were all holding a pity party for yourselves.  'Oh it was my fault, I did it worse'.  'No, no, it was me, I was crueler'...  And I just wanted to have all of you to fall back on, you know?”</p><p>	While we were busy playing the blame game, we once again managed to disregard Katherine.  She needed a family and all she got were loose puzzle pieces that fit, but were too stubborn to click together.</p><p>	As I mentioned earlier, your auntie died angry at us.  She tried not to be, but she could not help it.  Our relationships with her were mended indeed, but they were never the same.  And honestly?  For that I am glad.  While it means that perhaps I got a bit more backlash than absolutely necessary in entirely unrelated situations, it most importantly implies that in some capacity my kitten managed to see her own worth.  She realized she did not deserve the hand she had been dealt and it made her comprehensibly cross.</p><p>	Allow me to remind you that this mess is still ignoring everyone's personal grievances.  For a few weeks following Katherine's return home, when it sank in that she was finally back with us, we returned to our shells and withdrew our support from the others.</p><p>	Bar Katherine.  Even though per her own account we were more preoccupied with “our pity parties”, we did try to spend as much time as possible with her.  We did our best to maintain a calm and collaborative aura when she was around.  By no means am I saying that if she insisted we were not helpful we were; but we did try to be.  To show her our support; that we may have been at odds with each other, but not with her.</p><p>	Time with Kitty was precious, Mae.  So much so it was not uncommon to find two people who had quarreled earlier talking calmly because she was around.  But I am positive that spending time with her had such high value because the others barely had any: during the week they worked out of the house every day, so free hours or weekends were invaluable.</p><p>	That is where I differed from them.  As someone whose job was in front of her laptop, since Katherine had not returned to school yet, her presence soon became suffocating to me.  A permanent reminder that she was at home and ill in part because I had messed up.  That the coffee she brought to my room with a warm smile was on my desk solely because I had contributed to hurting her.  Every soothing gesture that brought my heart respite twisted into a stab of guilt when I remembered what circumstances were allowing her to spend so much time with me.</p><p>	I am not proud of how I handled it.  I am not proud of many things, as you can see.  I guess this is just a disclaimer for what I am about to tell you.</p><p>	October 24th, auntie Jane's death day, caught us in the same awkward position we had been in for Anne's.  Yes, we tolerated each other and we did not want Janey to suffer alone; but there was no warm aftermath.  After Jane snapped back into reality everyone sort of... went back to their days.  Except for Katherine, who for the first time since returning from the hospital got angry at the rest of us and practically shooed us out of Jane's room.</p><p>	“She just laid next to me and put on movies all day long” Jane told us years later, during Kitty's wake.  “I was crying on and off.  Mostly for Edward, but occasionally because I saw Kitty comforting me and the little voice in my head said 'You don't deserve this, now do you?'.  But if Kit asked I told her I was crying about Eddie.  I didn't want to upset her, and she curled into my side and told me stories about him to make me feel better.”</p><p>	Jane always felt like she had tempted fate when she uttered “nobody cared when you died”, and that fate had made it its business to prove her wrong.  To force her to care, to not give her a shred of a doubt that people would indeed care if anything bad happened to Katherine and that she would be among them writhing in agony.  This belief doubled when auntie Kitty was murdered two years ago.  For the longest time afterwards auntie Jane refused to go to therapy.  She did not believe she deserved help or support.</p><p>	“I said nobody cared, now I care.  I call it 'divine retribution'.”</p><p>	See what I mean when I said that the fallout was scarring?  But that is beside the point.  While I could go on a tangent (and it is quite tempting to) about how everyone felt individually about Jane's suffering on her death day, it is time I quit convincing myself to provide more context and move on.  At this point I am running from my feelings like a dog chasing its tail: I am merely going in circles.</p><p>	Jane called out for Eddie until her throat went raw in her final hours.  Her despair, coupled with seeing my own dying agony mirrored in hers, triggered something in me.  I needed to confront you.  I had to sit down, type “Mary Parr” into the search bar, and hit the enter button.</p><p>	Yes, you are technically Mary Seymour.  I am well aware.  But the man I had you with I associate with pain and misery.  I cannot put you under the same light, the only way in which you and him are tied in my mind is in the rational sense.  Emotionally he did not deserve to have even looked at you and you are my daughter alone.</p><p>	I will discuss Thomas Seymour and you later, my girl, to ease any troubles you may feel stirring up.  But know this here and now: you are not your parents.  You are not your origins.  You are not your family.  You are your own individual and nothing that anyone biologically related to you has done can ever taint you or your actions.  You are the world's purest person and nothing anyone else does or has done can ever change that.  You are a good person.  There is nothing of Thomas in you.  I see none of his behaviour or mannerisms or personality in you.  Please fret not, my sweet angel.  His corruption died with him.</p><p>	Whatever was left of him in Jane and I we buried.  </p><p>	After I realized my error and remembered who I had made the unfortunate mistake of falling in love with and I typed the proper name, I was overcome by grief.  You were nowhere.  A few theories here and there, but nothing provable.  For history you simply vanished at the age of two.  While now I am fairly certain it is because you died, back then all I could do was writhe over possibilities.  If you had grown up poor, or ill.  If someone had hurt you.  If you'd been well taken care of, happy...  </p><p>	You became all I could think about for some time, my princess.  Not in a reassuring way, like when Annie missed her daughter and thought of her accomplishments.  Not in a sad manner, either, like when Jane missed her Eddie she could mull over his short life.  Not even in confusion, like Lina trying to make sense of her feelings towards Mary.</p><p>	No, for me there was only anxiety.  It was paralyzing and all consuming.  Hypothesis, tribulations...  There were no strings to pull at that would lead me anywhere yet I kept reaching forwards, forming idea after idea in my mind, writing stories about you, until I could no longer breathe.  You were the light in my life, Mae, you always have been.  When before I saw young girls and thought about you, wondering if you had resembled them, after finding no information on you I asked myself if you had reached that age.  How tall you had been when you had been laid to rest.  If you were even old enough to comprehend the concept of death or if it had grasped you in your years of oblivious innocence.</p><p>	I felt like I was drowning.  While a month prior I would have gone to Lina or any of the others, I kept my pain within my heart.  I was only on good terms with Katherine and I had no right to burden her with any more pain.  Or at the very least I thought I would spare her suffering by concealing my own.</p><p>	The nights I had slept too much while trying to ward off reality during Katherine's hospitalization and the subsequent falling apart of our small family unfurled into nightmares.  There were some about Katherine's beheading, event that I witnessed and somehow managed not to dream about until then.  Most everything went the same until Katherine had to deliver her speech.  Then her words changed for others and the voice saying them was not hers.  It was mine (or one of your aunties; but mostly mine) saying the atrocities I'd told her.  I heard Anna cursing us to the deepest pits of hell and even though I wanted nothing but to wake up I could not.  </p><p>	But those, horrifying as they sound, were a minority.  More of my nightmares were about Lizzie.  I could hear her voice (from her first life, obviously), blaming me for her trauma.  As I agreed with her in dreams she reminded me I was a rubbish person.</p><p>	And mostly they were about you.  A faceless child I could never catch a glimpse of, a giggle without a body to produce it, a whiff of another presence in the air.  You were everywhere: in the executions, in the room Lizzie spoke to me about Thomas Seymour.  And you said nothing.  I knew you were there but search as I may I could never find you.  If I called out you would not speak to me.</p><p>	Then there were the ones about your death, but those I refuse to disclose.  I believe I have supplied enough information for you to get an idea.</p><p>	Nights became my worst enemies and during the day every second I was not working on my articles and research was not much better.  My rejection of Anne was suddenly not because of what she said, or because I knew she was uncomfortable around me; but because I saw Lizzie in her and felt sick to the stomach.  I avoided Anna not because she had made it amply clear I was an unwanted presence, but rather because I remembered Katherine's death and how I had felt nothing, like a monster.</p><p>	But when I was awake, secluded and unoccupied you would take up the space the others would have normally filled.  More theories, a need to research more, to read more conjectures, anything that would give me as much as a peep about the fate that had befallen you.</p><p>	I used to see you everywhere trying to imagine who you had been.  After finding nothing on you I continued to see you everywhere, but with the despair of a parent who has lost their child in a crowd and searches frantically for them.  </p><p>	I could not live like that much longer.  If work was the only thing that kept me from spiraling and also gave me an excuse to spend less time with Katherine and sleep less, then I would work more.  It became obvious to me that I needed more work.  A flawed conclusion, of course.  Nothing I tell you from now on about me from now on is going to be rational.  Or good, for that matter.  </p><p>	During Katherine's hospitalization I had been offered to handle a small segment of our blog aside from my monthly article.  Back then, overwhelmed by everything as I was, I refused.  I said I needed to spend more time with my family, that the research and writing time necessary for my workload as was already took long enough.</p><p>	But after she returned there was no family to spend time with.  Just six housemates who tolerated each other for the sake of our youngest.  The reductionist perspective made us despise the rest, as I explained.  Following Jane's death day not only was there no family to motivate me to work less, but there was also the urge to stay awake and busy at all costs.  I e-mailed the director and asked if the position was still available.  That one in particular was not; but another journalist had left and his section was free.</p><p>	“Can I count on you to cover it, Catherine?  Are you sure you won't leave me stranded later so you can be with your family or whatever?”</p><p>	The reply should have been a rotund “no”.  Instead, for someone whose brain hates changes, I have never typed a “yes” faster in my life.  </p><p>	You know?  Another way of framing this section could be “how your mother lost a good job by biting more than she could chew instead of getting help.”  Because that is exactly what happened.</p><p>	My original article, which I was responsible for, was from the history section.  Every month, aside from the other articles covering contemporary events and science facts, there was a page devoted to history.  While I found it bitterly ironic upon waking up that it just happened to be mine to write about I did enjoy it.  It was not just British history; but rather universal history.  While researching I got to learn about different cultures, monarchies, empires, ways of living, religions, schools of thought...  Not only was it fascinating, but also convenient for the world building of my own projects.  </p><p>	Research in and of its own was grueling, as I would not sleep well at night if I portrayed something in the wrong light.  I would go to the library, look online and buy whichever books were necessary to address what I wrote about.  Seldom were the times in which I needed to consult with someone; but when I did they were online consultations that did not require me to interact much.  In short, it truly was a dream job: little to no people involved and a lot of reading and learning.  </p><p>	Before we reached the uncomfortable stage we were at, your aunties and your mother would listen to me go on and on about whatever it was I was reading about.  I loved those moments once it got through to me that I was not bothering them.</p><p>	The new section I took on was about hidden places in Britain, though it was mainly London that was discussed.  It could be anything from an out of the way library to a quiet caffé with an interesting story or an underground pub where mask parties were held.  It sounded good at first, interesting and refreshing.  A way to be out of the house, without Katherine, and clear my mind from both her and you.</p><p>	It became a nightmare faster than you can snap your fingers.</p><p>	Niche locations are hard to find, even more so those which had not been covered already.  After spending time finding the place I had to actually go there.  Even assuming it was not a joint for social gathering I still had to talk to the regulars to learn more about it.  What it was that made it a special place, what they liked about it, why it was not well known...  As well as interviewing the owners.  What was it like, why people should go to their establishment, how had they thought of handling or opening such a locale...  </p><p>	It was exhausting.  In case it was not evident before that I struggle with communicating with people those interactions made it jump in my face that I do.  It was no longer a problem I could hide under the rug and pretend was not there (as I had been mostly doing when it was just your aunties and mother I interacted with on the daily; not that it's healthy to ignore problems), but it was also one I assumed was on me.  I just was not trying hard enough, I should do better, I had survived life in court which was harder...  Any and every excuse to elude admitting that I needed help.</p><p>	For a long time I wondered why I was so inclined to avoid that.  I did not think people who struggled were weak; not for a second did I believe that about say, Annie for example.  I did not think any less of the other five reincarnated Tudor queens for needing assistance, it just made sense to me that they did.  But looking back on it I believe it was a mixture of shame (not feeling good enough) and that escapism that lead me to search for work addiction as an outlet.  If I was not ready to confront my emotions about you and Katherine with myself how was I supposed to be prepared to do so in front of another person?</p><p>	A lot of pretty excuses for past me to justify to herself why “just continue pushing forwards, it will get better eventually” was more reasonable than accepting there was no tangible motive to force herself to suffer presently.  Even if with time I had just “gotten better” at socializing on my own (which I would not have, for the record) it was not a good reason to shove through the pain.  A short life lesson to extract not just from this; but from every individual breakdown in general, my girl: ask for help.  Even if you are positive in time you will get better, or that you do not deserve it, or that you should be “strong enough” to deal with it on your own.  Just ask for help, there are no legitimate reasons not to.  You deserve good things and nobody can ever confront everything alone, period.</p><p>	Anyways, back on track.  As you can see, that was a lot of time (and subsequently burnout time) taken away from my history article.  One that, let me remind you, I would not refuse to turn in less than perfectly researched for.  Days and months happen to have the same amount of time within them whether one has a lot or too little to do, so I had to cut down on sleeping time.</p><p>	Exactly what I wanted, I guess.  Be careful what you wish for.</p><p>	When I accepted my new job early in November the news was not well received.  Lina, with whom I had not spoken much to since October 24th, stopped me after dinner to ask if I was okay.  I said “yes” and moved by her, not letting her get closer.  Anna accused me of “not only having fucked up; but also leaving Katherine alone”.  Which was fair.  Assuming anything bad happened to Katherine while I was gone and the rest working she would indeed have nobody to help her.  Jane and Anne were mostly neutral, but were worried about my decision given how stressful social interactions can be.</p><p>	As for auntie Katherine, she always did see more than she let show.  Or, for the most part at least; but more on that later.</p><p>	“I just assumed somehow it had to do with me.  I thought I'd either tired you by being basically your shadow or you just didn't want to remember what happened.  Either way I figured you really would be better off without me.”</p><p>	And so she vanished from my life overnight.  Quite literally.  Unless we were together for meals if I was home Katherine stayed away.  Did she need it reinforced that people were happier without her?  No.  Did I want to go to her room, knock and ask her to keep me company again?  Not at first, but increasingly as I isolated myself more and more.  </p><p>	But, the crucial question: was I genuinely convinced our separation was best for her overall?  Most certainly.</p><p>	As much as I obviously noticed your auntie no longer came to me I thought it was better: I had been thinking and re-thinking ways of kindly telling her I needed time to work and she was distracting me.  Which she really was not; auntie Kitty was as quiet as her namesake animal.  It was my own mind playing tricks on me and my refusal to ask for an outside perspective that was distracting.  But I guess that I believed if I could just pin all my tribulations on “Katherine distracting me” I did not need to address the turmoil within.  That she simply stopped coming over, at the time, felt more like a blessing than a curse.  I did not have to say something she may misinterpret or hurt her feelings.  And, as far as I could tell, if she decided of her own accord to spend less time with me perhaps it was because she was cross at me.  Understandable and deserved, so I would not impose my presence upon her.</p><p>	Again, excuses.  Excuses that sounded so convincing to me I dared not even question them.  Grief is a bad counselor, Mae.  Any choice you make while hurt or in pain you should contrast with a person of trust.  Aches buried deep always fester into mould and cause rot from the inside out.</p><p>	I do not consider myself a stupid person.  Even if now, in hindsight, I speak about everything as if it had been obvious and I were dumb for not having noticed, that would not be fair.  While I must point out the inconsistencies, as much as I hate to admit it, I was very much trapped in my own bubble of perceived reality.  A bubble that would grow thick as concrete when insomnia and caffeine entered the picture.  I was so convinced my conclusions were correct I did not pause to do a double-take.  And that is something that can happen to anyone.  To one degree or some other it happened to your aunties and your mother as well.</p><p>	All I am saying is please learn from these mistakes from us so you do not need to make them yourself.  And never, ever feel as if you are “stupid” and hence “deserve the consequences” in any given situation.  Our minds can be our worst enemies.  Whether astute or gullible, nobody plays people like fiddles better than their brains.  That is not a flaw in character, just something to be aware of and work on.</p><p>	The first and only hidden location I covered was a small caffé in a town some miles from here.  It was the third place I found with help from the internet and the first to accept an interview.  After a week of searching and talking to the owners I got on a bus and went there.  Five hours in that cramped vehicle with loud people.  That was but the prelude of what was to come.</p><p>	As nice as the owners were it got exhausting soon.  They were an elderly couple.  He was hard of hearing and screamed most of his words despite me standing closer to him than comfortable; and his wife had a tendency to pat people's shoulders as she talked to them.  I was not exempt, of course, and even after I asked her to stop “sorry dearie, force of habit!!  Ya' can't teach an old dog new tricks!” was the most I got from her.</p><p>	In what I am positive was an attempt to be kind they offered I try their signature white hot chocolate.  A word of wisdom for the future: if your pallet is anything like mine, never under any circumstances try white hot chocolate.  White chocolate is fine, hot chocolate as well; but the combination of both is an abomination.</p><p>	I also told them “no thank you”, but the regulars said I was being rude and more or less peer pressured me into having it; insisting that it was a bad look for my workplace if I wasn't nice to the owners.  At least until my taste buds got overloaded and I almost threw up in front of them.  Then it was fine for me not to want it.</p><p>	I needed some time in the bathroom after that.  Food aversions can trigger meltdowns in some cases.</p><p>	If the first half of the day had been a disaster the second did not get much better.  After the loud interview with the owners was over I had to talk to the customers.  It...  Look, I've had better days.  Some were nice.  Others were not.  One particularly impolite person directly called me a freak and asked what was wrong with me.</p><p>	I was taking breaks often.  Too loud, people brushing past, people being insensitive, people insisting I try what they were having (and being offended when I did not wish to share saliva with total strangers), others going off on a tangent that had nothing to do with the interview (and getting cross when I insisted it was unrelated to my article)...  It was too much.  It must be slightly off-putting to you now.  You have seen me in more than one interview when promoting a book and I  generally seem calm on the outside.  But I have had years to work on social skills and coping mechanisms since.  </p><p>	By the time I had enough testimonies (and at least one child was for some reason convinced I was a witch -this is the only funny and worthwhile story that happened there-) it was too dark to take pictures.  Night comes early in November and I had vastly underestimated how soon out of the way towns close shop.</p><p>	I went to the bus station ready to get on the last bus of the day rather deflated.  I was anxious, could not stop rubbing my jumper's sleeves.  It was horrible, as if I were breathing anxiety instead of air.  To top off the day, the bus was out of service.  Some hooligans had thought it hilarious to just slash all the tires and throw rocks at the glass panes.  Apparently they had some ongoing unresolved issues with the driver.  In any case, everyone that night who was depending on that bus had to get on another to go a town over and stay the night in the nearest motel.</p><p>	Tiny detail I forgot to leave out: the bus station was almost an hour walking from the town.  My choices were to go there or walk another hour in the dark in the middle of nowhere by myself.  </p><p>	Needless to say I could not speak.  Which in turn prompted a very nice lady to get worried about me because apparently I was rocking lightly and try putting a bag over my head to help me breathe.  That did not help and someone else told her to “leave -very ableist slur- alone.”</p><p>	The ride in the bus was hell and it was even worse with all those people keeping a very obvious distance from me as if I bore some sort of contagious disease.  At one point I vaguely remember the driver's voice asking me to “stop being disruptive.”  </p><p>	Everything hurt Mae.  I could not stop thinking of the others.  How on days like those Janey would sit quietly next to me working on her knitting, or Lina would stay with me without forcing me to speak.  If Annie were there she would have most definitely kept me company ranting about her latest hyperfixation; or your mother would have very awkwardly asked if I wanted company and watched a movie with me so quietly she could not hear the dialogue.</p><p>	My heart yearned to feel Katherine's weight against me as she talked about something inconsequential.  How she would have already slammed my computer shut if I were at home and guided me to bed.</p><p>	But of course, those days were gone.  Or so I thought at the time.  As much as during one of my lowest moments I ached for nothing but my family I was convinced I would never have them again.  Had I not driven Katherine away myself?  Were the others not avoiding me and each other like the plague?</p><p>	My mind took advantage of my vulnerability that night and kept presenting me with what I assumed to be your voice.  More accurately, the voice that passed itself off as you and haunted my waking moments and nightmares alike.  It did not let me sleep even after the grueling process of checking out at the motel.  The place smelled dreadful, I felt like every ounce of my body was just wired wrong and on top of it all there was you.  All around me in every corner.</p><p>	Granted, I do not mean you the person reading this.  I am referring to my concept of you, of the child whose fate I felt responsible for abandoning.  The little girl whose first words I had not heard, whose first steps I had not witnessed.  Who history had forgotten as if she had not been the light of my life.  Please feel no guilt for any of this, my princess.  None of it is related to you.</p><p>	Like every other story this one has two sides: mine as the person going through the crisis, and the rests' as the people witnessing it.  As tempting as it is to gloss over everything related to me, focusing on what the others went through is even worse.  I do not want to explore the pain I myself caused.  Nonetheless, to avoid giving you a fragmented and incoherent series of events, I will do my best to intertwine both sides cohesively.</p><p>	Had I been in the right mental place to look at my phone that night, which was on Do Not Disturb mode since I arrived at the town, I would have seen a collection of over 70 text messages and 12 missed calls.  All of which came from the people I was convinced no longer cared about me.</p><p>	If I'd been home I would have seen your mother and your aunties come together for the first time in a while to debate whether to call the police or not.  They decided to, since they did not think I would just disappear on them without letting them know.  Granted, being an adult and all, the police would not do a thing until 48 hours went by.</p><p>	Jane and her cousins stayed in our house, since Katherine was still recovering.  Nonetheless, none of the three went to bed while they awaited your mother and auntie Lina's return.  And as for them in the car, Anna drove while Lina did her best to pretend she wasn't crying, holding her chest as it became harder to breathe with each thunderous heartbeat.</p><p>	It would seem Annie did not take well to the 48 hour waiting period.  When she was informed Anna had to restrain her to keep her from leaving the house to do who knows what.</p><p>	“A lot can happen in two days.  That's kind of a lot of time.  If they didn't give a fuck I certainly did.”</p><p>	Even after everyone was home sleep only went to Katherine, who more or less passed out between your mother and Anne due to the amount of medication she was on.  Despite being so close they did not talk much, if at all.  It was awkward to be together after so long.  Your mother was still working hard to forgive everyone and Anne thought your mother was cross at her at the very least.</p><p>	Lina sought Jane at the break of dawn after a terrible night, but retreated back to her room after one knock.  If all her attempts to fix everything had fizzled out up to date Lina did not want Jane to think she was taking advantage of a stressful situation to get close to her again.  If Jane was mad at her then so be it.</p><p>	In reality, Jane was wide awake as well.  She did not reply because the hurried footsteps made her think whoever had come to her had second thoughts about it.  </p><p>	Annie would later say that we are not good at disliking each other.  Even when we have conflicting emotions we are legitimately bad at not caring.  And that night was a prime example of it.</p><p>	I wish I had been there to see.</p><p>	Things took a turn for the worse rather fast.  And it was my fault.  When I got home close to 10 AM I was not expecting everyone to flock around me the second I opened the door.  After the night I'd had and the overwhelming everything from the previous day it did not register with me that they were worried.  They just sounded loud, their voices overlapping in an incomprehensible cacophony.  So I fled to my room.</p><p>	That in and of itself should have made them angry.  They had spent a terrible night and I had not texted them once to spare them the concern.  Instead that was the moment that cued to them that something was off about me.  The problem was that the uncertainty that flared up within me when I as much as thought about talking to one of them plagued them as well.  </p><p>	I know I have already explained it, or at least tried to, but...  Mae, the feelings that consume people after living through what auntie Kitty did...  They are anything but rational.  There is a mix of rage, sadness, helplessness, guilt and confusion that make people short-circuit.  Blaming oneself and isolating, blaming others and pushing them away...  They are relatively normal reactions to such violent unsorted feelings.  But back then for me and for the others as well it felt like the end of the world: we had faced our troubles and fixed whichever bonds were broken; all for what?  Our youngest to believe we did not need her?  And it being at least in part our fault to varying degrees?</p><p>	It really hurt.  We had crafted a family somehow, made it work.  But even at its prime, even in its greatest moment, we had almost lost Katherine.  Again, I cannot stress enough how that was mostly related to everything that had happened to her and her insistence on bottling it up.  But our perception, our collective and flawed perception placed ourselves and the others at absolute and objective fault, my girl.  It felt like nothing between any of us had been real.  We had befriended people who we thought incapable of uttering the cruel words they had.  We had been the people who spoke vicious words even we thought we could not.  Had our happiness ever been real?  Were the others also hiding behind emotional walls like Katherine was?  Did they deserve a chance, did we?</p><p>	And yet again: that is purely in regards to our interpersonal relationships with each other and casting our own musings to the side.  Of course we were bound to withdraw.  Looking back on it I do not see how else it could have gone.  What we needed was a long conversation between the six of us to set everything right again.  Let our feelings out in the open, be honest about what we felt towards ourselves and the others.  Instead we just...  Prayed the storm would blow over eventually, I guess.  Waited for the problem to disappear on its own and just “deal with it” until then.</p><p>	Problems never vanish of their own free volition, Mae.  We have to make them leave ourselves.  In between the pointless trains of thought of “how did this happen?”, “was it my fault?”, “was it their  fault?”, “I never thought they could be so cruel”, “but wait that's unfair: I never thought I could be so cruel”, “I don't want to talk to them right now”, “they probably don't want to talk to me either”, and a long etc we drifted so far apart from each other it was easy to believe we had just stopped caring.</p><p>	And yet despite the ugly situation we were in, and regardless of how I had made them worry, not one of your aunties nor your mother were cross at me.  Simply concerned.</p><p>	I cannot be thankful enough for having been granted this second life with them.   Nothing can ever do justice to the miracle that is having them and you.</p><p>	The day I returned exhausted from my first interview was November 14th, a mere 9 days away from our one year anniversary in this life.  I felt as alone as I had the previous year.  Even more; for by then I knew how loving the others could be.  I had experienced their warmth, their affection, and believing myself to be alone once more made my heart turn to ice between my lungs.  I felt like I had lost everything.</p><p>	A lot of what happened next is incredibly hazy.  As in my memories of it are blurry due to exhaustion and a substance I have not tried since: caffeine.</p><p>	That Saturday when I returned I had already been running on one or two hours of sleep at most every night.  The tension that going to that place put me through was a linchpin, I guess, in breaking whatever was left of my sanity.  Sleep deprivation is no joke.  At the time I believed the nightmares to be worse, but looking back on it I disagree.  Bad dreams are not real, after all.</p><p>	Every time I surrendered to an uneasy sleep I awoke with a start and my breath caught in my throat.  Katherine's twisted execution, your voice, Lizzie condemning me, not finding you, the feeling of losing you, remembering the agonizing wait in the hospital, hearing your mother's voice when she exploded at us, blaming myself for absolutely everything and feeling so lonely...  Those dreams were torture. </p><p>	I will make a small intervention here to explain that, for the most part, “dreams with meaning” are just those that convey feelings and emotions we are experiencing but are too afraid to face head on.  They need to manifest somehow and they do so through sleep.  I could not come to terms with my involvement in Katherine's suicide attempt, which stirred the belief that I am no good caretaker and did not do enough for Lizzie.  Finding out about your mysterious fate consolidated for me that you were probably better off without me and that was the hardest thing to confront of all.  That my beloved daughter, my reason to live after realizing the kind of person Thomas Seymour was, had been born to someone who could not keep a single child safe.  Who could not hold her own tongue and got driven by petty feelings.</p><p>	That, had I survived, I would have probably been the worst curse that could have been bestowed upon you.  And on the other hand, that perhaps my death was what doomed you to an untimely end.</p><p>	I will not lie to you, my girl.  Occasionally I still feel like that.  It took me very long to forgive myself for dying, or accepting that I am a good mother.  However, after a lot of honest heart to hearts with the others and therapy, I feel adequate to care for you.  Every day your happy smile and your beautiful personality confirm that and fight away any doubts that linger.  You make it obvious you are happy with me and that you feel safe and loved as every child should.</p><p>	I love you Mae.  Thank you for feeling the same.</p><p>	But back then I had no respite.  No you, none of the others, just myself and the feelings I wished to hide from.  As if I could ever conceal myself from what lurked in my own head.  That truly is foolish, but in all honesty it was the best I could do at the time.</p><p>	I liked coffee.  I was known to use it to power myself through all-nighters when I had to.  But never before had I seen it as a lifeline.  A means to an end yes; but not something I required to function.  Since I was convinced I needed to sleep only when I was so exhausted my brain could not even produce dreams I</p><p>	This section definitely takes the prize for the most amount of times I have sat here staring blankly at the screen.  Typing “I developed a caffeine addiction” is hard.  I cannot rationalize why; I have written worse things about myself.  But I guess I simply do not want to admit just how vulnerable I was.  </p><p>	I pray that you have never known times of fitful rest.  That even through exam periods and the like you are able to sleep.  But if you have then you must be no stranger to the bad mood that tiredness puts one in.  Extrapolate that moodiness to going up to three days without sleep and never resting more than an hour or two at a time and you get someone who is bordering on cruel.</p><p>	Exhaustion warps the mind.  I could not find words for my article; which meant that I had not even started working on my history article.  It made me feel useless, as if even writing had abandoned me.  Which in turn made me wonder if I myself was worth anything for the non-sentient art of words to remain with me.  If everyone I loved and cared for was gone, then why would anything else stick around?</p><p>	Perhaps I had never had talent.  Perhaps words had never been my forte.  As far as I knew I was simply praised for having been a queen in a distant life.  A queen who was incapable of keeping her step daughter free from the horrors of the world and who loved a monster.  A queen whose daughter was happier and safer without.</p><p>	The self-hatred replaced the fear and the anxiety, the loneliness; and that loathing sizzled into rage.  Outbursts when one of your aunties knocked on my door.  Or when they insisted I had to eat.  Why were they bothering with me?  Why did they care about my fate?  Even I did not care.</p><p>	The voice I had designated for you taunted me.  It escaped the confines of my dreams as my exhaustion merged my sleeping and my waking hours.  I  could not tone it down.  The amount of coffee I needed increased by the day as my body got weaker and weaker with tiredness.  My limbs quite literally felt heavy.  I know it is a cliché way of describing exhaustion but oh my is it accurate.  Every movement was painstaking.</p><p>	A thing about my first life I seldom discuss is the time I was held hostage with my step children from my second husband.  Those memories are some of the worst.  The sheer helplessness of being subjected to whatever the captors wanted of us.  Of seeing my little ones afraid.  I was terrified as well.  My faith was not a bad thing, it was not something I had ever used to harm anyone.  And yet for it, for an innocuous part of myself, I and others were being punished.  </p><p>	I am rather uncomfortable discussing this much, my girl, apologies if to you it feels rushed.  But there is a special way in which being held prisoner messes with a person.  The feeling that anyone can come, at any moment, and do whatever they please with you and nobody is going to stop it.  It strips away whichever sense of safety you had before, leaving you feeling naked and exposed.  Every person is a potential threat.  Everything you say about yourself becomes a weapon that could be used to hurt you and your loved ones.  It makes you learn to hold your tongue even if it means sealing your sanity along with it.</p><p>	And, of course, marrying Henry tripled that fear.  There was nothing he could not do.  That sadist, that vile person who hurt anyone and everyone he decided to.  Because he could, because nobody would ever stop him.  There was a time when he threatened me with being executed just because.  He insisted it was due to suspicions of me hiding Protestant books; but I was there and I saw the twisted satisfaction in his eyes.  I remember how they glimmered with dark delight as he forced me to beg for my life publicly.  He enjoyed my humiliation, he loved my suffering.  He was revolting.  I hated him.  And still if I wished to keep my body in one piece I had to kneel before him and beg.</p><p>	All my first life I felt vulnerable, defenseless.  Lonely, afraid and paranoid of those around me.  I guess I was strong, in a way.  I did a lot of things women were not supposed to do despite the consequences they could have.  But that strength does not wash away and magically remove the heart-stopping fear of knowing for a fact that if people want to hurt you they will.  Nobody will help you if you are not a person of power.  On the other hand, any powerful person who feels entitled to you, your dignity, your wealth or your well-being can do whatever they like.  And if you wish to survive then you must go ahead and beg on the floor.</p><p>	Why am I telling you this now?  That is a fair question, my princess.  In my new life I managed to keep a sturdy lock around those memories.  They still creeped in (I believe I have mentioned having nightmares before this at least in passing), but I mostly kept them at bay.  And rather successfully, at that.  It was a new century.  Women were no longer property.  I did not need to beg a man for my life just to be allowed to exist freely.  I was my own person and nobody would take that away from me.</p><p>	Your presence and your voice were not the only things that sleep deprivation brought into my consciousness.  Along with them seeped in those feelings as well.  The vulnerability, the loneliness.  I was not defensive with your aunties and your mother only due to exhaustion; but also fear.  I had let them get too close to me.  What if now that they were all cross at me they used my weaknesses against me?  What if they tried to hurt me as well?  After all, is it untrue that we never really know anyone?  I would have never thought Lina capable of being cruel in cold blood.  I was unable to realize that Thomas Seymour was a bad person.  Who was to say I had not once again misplaced my trust?</p><p>	This must be unbelievable to you and trust me, as I type this I myself am slightly taken aback.  But indeed, the fear of being taken advantage of, lied to and hurt all over again was freed from my subconscious into the forefront of my thoughts.  And that fear corrupted absolutely everything I had down to my sense of safety and my own worth as a person.  My first step-children's voices, Henry's, Thomas' and my captors' joined the chorus of dead people I heard asleep and awake.  It was as maddening as it sounds.</p><p>	And to all this we must add the side-effects of caffeine: anxiety, chest pain, migraines...</p><p>	Words no longer came if I as much as managed to get out of bed on any given day.  If I did then my inability to string two sentences together made me hate myself.  But if let myself sleep or rest or even take a shower, then it got worse because the voices in my head reminded me I was being “lazy” and “unproductive”.</p><p>	It sounds like this went on for a very long time, but in reality it was just two weeks.  Well, “just”.  No period of time is excusable to hurt oneself, let us leave that crystal clear here and now.</p><p>	In that fortnight the others had to watch helplessly.  I thought I was being subtle, steering away from them imperceptibly; but the problem was they cared about me.  Whether I thought I deserved it or not.  They were concerned but too afraid of this new distance between us to bridge the gap and confront me.</p><p>	I am positive, as someone who had to sit through their individual breakdowns, that feelings and tensions were much higher.  But they never have told me what it felt like other than addressing that general uncertainty and worry.  I believe they do not want to make me feel bad.  As if I were a stranger to the pain I inflicted upon them.</p><p>	What I do know about in slightly more detail is that in their shared concern for me they began talking among themselves a bit more naturally.  Still laced with unease, but slowly inching back towards that unity we had achieved.</p><p>	In the final days, when I was sleeping so little I am positive I had either extremely vivid fever dreams or straight out hallucinations (it is hard to distinguish the times I was awake from those I was not).  Whichever they were, in them I felt guilty for having died.  Many other mothers had children and did not die during labour.  Lina did not.  Annie did not.  My mother did not.  Why me?  </p><p>	It felt as if I had left you alone, taken the easy way out from that suffering and abandoned you.  The feelings that come with outliving your child who you technically died before are complex.  It would take multiple months of therapy (omitting the part about having died, of course) to come to terms with the fact that there was nothing I would not have done to stay beside you.  </p><p>	Then again, that blame clung to me like a spiderweb around my face.  It did not let me see clearly, it did not allow me to breathe or even scream to ask for help.  Sleep deprivation had already encumbered me with a skewed perception of myself and reality.  I was convinced I could have done something to simply not die.</p><p>	And, in all honesty, sitting here and writing this for you occasionally feels the same.  As if I were not trying hard enough to stay alive and keep you safe.  I have been gifted a second chance with you and instead of fighting tooth and nail to maintain it I am accepting my fate and writing my parting words for you.</p><p>	I do know, logically, that it is unavoidable though.  Even if the others do not wish to admit it.  Pointless for now; I just want you to know that I would never give up and leave you without trying everything first.  I need you to know that.  I searched far and wide Mae, I did everything I could think of.</p><p>	I am so sorry.  I am so, so sorry that all I can leave you are words.</p><p>	As I was saying, the 27th of November arrived faster than I anticipated.  I had only finished one article and been unable to even begin researching a topic for the other.  I quite literally had three days left to finish it and I knew I simply did not have time.  It was one of the worst days of my new life.  I was so lost in my bubble of misery I did not notice our reincarnation anniversary had gone by.</p><p>	On that stressful day everything came to a close.  And I am thankful because I was hurting myself and the rest.  It needed to end.</p><p>	Now, what I will tell you is a very watered down version of events.  Not because I am trying to protect you; but rather because I do not remember it at all and I bear no doubts that your aunties and your mother toned it down severely.</p><p>	It would seem that my dearest Katherine once again tasked herself with pulling us together.  She came to my room and let herself in without knocking.  Not the best manners perhaps, but she knew I would not grant entry regardless.  It would appear I was passed out on my desk with the blinds shut and my computer screen at maximum brightness.  There were empty coffee mugs everywhere.</p><p>	That sight far exceeded whatever your auntie had expected, so she recruited everyone to help (it was a Friday evening, they were all home).  In a little under an hour my bedroom was clean and the stale air was let out.</p><p>	“Your room screamed 'help me please', and that's what we did.  Did you think you'd get rid of us that easily?” was all Lina explained some time later, massaging my scalp.  “Impossible, love.”</p><p>	They were all in my room when I woke up, once again with a gasp and trembling.  It could have been due to fear or caffeine.  Probably both.  Either way, opening my eyes to a room full of people when chances were I had just awoken from a nightmare about being a prisoner got me in an agitated mood.</p><p>	I have not been told what it was I said exactly, only that it was not particularly nice.  At one point I got so loud Anne had to stand outside my room, poor thing.  But, either way, in time I exhausted myself more.  It would seem I was so weak with sleep that I stumbled when I tried getting up to kick everyone out.  After being unable to even stand on my own I just broke down.  Insults turned to wails and accusations to apologies.  To them; but mostly to Lizzie and you.</p><p>	Lina excused herself and called our GP.  She explained that I would not go to the doctors' of my own free will, at least not in that state, and that I desperately needed to rest.  After checking my medical records for allergies our doctor recommended Lina some over-the-counter sleeping pills which she got for me.  </p><p>	In the time it took her to go to the pharmacy and back Jane convinced me I needed a shower and to eat something to feel better.  I did not want to feel better, I wanted to disappear.  But I was tired enough I was easy to coax, I guess.  I trusted (and still do) your auntie's word when she said she did not force me, don't get me wrong.  I just do not remember these events for myself.</p><p>	While Jane helped me in the shower (in other words: made sure I did not open my head against the bathtub by falling asleep while standing) your mother with Anne and Kitty prepared dinner.</p><p>	I was still shaking when Jane dried my hair and had such a hard time with quivering hands that the other initially doubted I could handle cutlery on my own.  Afterwards Lina put a tablet before me and asked me to take it.  She was honest about its purpose, she almost begged me to do it, saying that I needed to sleep.  I put up a bit of a fight, but in the end gave in to the exhaustion.</p><p>	Your mother had to carry me to my room and I am equal parts mortified and sad that I do not remember it.</p><p>	I slept almost eleven hours.   The sun was already high up when I woke up from the first dreamless rest I'd had since Jane's death day.  I remember what transpired from then onward with differing levels of clarity; but I do recall having no idea what had happened the previous day and wondering why I was still asleep when I had an article to write.</p><p>	However, I was not alone in my room.  Lina and the others except for Katherine (who had insisted indefinitely but ultimately not been allowed -she had to rest as well-) had kept watch over me to be sure I did not spiral into another work daze or got my hands on coffee again.  Annie was with me when I dashed out of bed.  Or tried to, more likely.</p><p>	“Easy there, easy...  Good morning, Cath” she said, looking up from the Switch.  I remember how her hair caught the sunlight so beautifully.  “Sleep well?”</p><p>	Anne insisted we all needed to talk.  That I had been acting dangerously and she and the others were worried.  The prospect was undesirable, to say the least.  I would not finish my article regardless, though, and the least I could do for the others was ease their minds.</p><p>	That was my original plan: convincing them nothing was wrong and moving on.  As Annie, after asking if it was okay with me, lead me downstairs by the waist (to make sure I did not collapse), I was thinking about subjects I had discarded for previous articles but perhaps knew enough about to cobble something mediocre together.  Mediocre was nowhere near acceptable; but even worse was not turning anything in.</p><p>	I remember most vividly how my heart skipped a beat when I saw them all gathered in the living room.  Katherine between Jane and Anna on the sofa.  Lina on an armchair.  After Anne left me at the other she took Anna's other side.  It was the first time I saw them all together since before Katherine's suicide attempt.  I was so emotional and tired I believe I teared up a bit.  If anyone noticed they did not mention it.</p><p>	“So...” Lina started in a soft voice.  “What's been going on?”</p><p>	And so I told them about everything being alright for about a solid minute before breaking down.  They had all come together for that meeting.  For me.  The bare minimum I owed them was honesty.  As such, despite myself, I pulled a 180 and confessed everything: my guilt about Katherine, Lizzie and my concerns for you.</p><p>	At the time I felt pathetic and small before them.  They had seen my room messy, they had taken care of me while barely conscious.  I had said undesirable things to them when sleep deprived.  And then I was whining to multiple grieving mothers about my kid and, in Annie's case, her own.  Did Jane believe I also thought she had abandoned Edward?  I did not, I really did not.  It was a me problem; it was unrelated to her.  The cherry on top was being open about my feelings about Katherine and my faults regarding her with her in the room.</p><p>	Yet despite those feelings, now I believe I was anything but pathetic.  If it had been any of the others in that state I would have been in awe at her bravery for talking about difficult emotions head on without taking detours.  Straightforwards to the crux of the problem.  While I have a hard time being “in awe” at anything I do I must admit that to be fair and objective I did not do half a bad job.</p><p>	When the torrent of words ended I could not bear to look at any of them.  They would certainly be frowning either in disgust or annoyance.  I could not picture my rant as anything other than weak and whiny.</p><p>	“...Cathy please can I sit with you?  I don't have to touch you but I'd like to be with you...  Please?”</p><p>	Katherine's tone as she spoke was not harsh.  Quite the opposite.  After I gave her a trembling nod she sat on the armrest of my chair and tentatively, slowly to give me ample time to withdraw, took my hand in hers.  But then and there it felt wrong, so I let go of her.  Then immediately considered that she would probably take it as an insult and forced myself to return contact.  It was her who pulled her hand away and chided me in a very gentle manner.</p><p>	“Your comfort first; everything else later.”</p><p>	Your mother began to speak, but Annie cut her off with an exasperated sigh.</p><p>	“It's the same story over and over again, can't you see?  Lina feels bad about Bessie Blount, proceeds to ignore her chest pain.  Janey feels bad about... well, me, and she goes ahead and insults herself.  I... well, I find out about my daughter and I stop caring and almost die.  Then Anna feels responsible for that and stops eating.  Then Kit-- just stops caring in general and decides to up and leave us.  And then Cathy feels miserable about that and works herself to the ground.</p><p>	“Do you see it?  For different reasons and under different circumstances but we have the same MO: we do something or find out something we perceive as bad and close ourselves away from the world, pushing everyone away convinced that we don't deserve help...  You know what?  It's going to get pretty fucking exhausting if we continue to do this every single time we encounter a problem.  And, uh, life threatening too.”</p><p>	...She was right.  What else can I say?</p><p>	However what I got away from that was that me being a bad mother to you and a hazardous presence to Lizzie and Katherine was on par with the things they thought they had done wrong.  Those events which to me were obviously either not their fault or things they had long since fixed they were comparing to what I had objectively done wrong.</p><p>	“But isn't that how we all felt, Cathy?” Jane said after I expressed that.  “Like what we said or did or didn't do was the worst thing in the world?  Only for the others to show us otherwise little by little?”</p><p>	It was a fact.  As much as the horrible voices in my head screamed that Anne and her were wrong, they really were not.  </p><p>	“Jane's right” your mother said at last.  “You helped me when I... back in June; and now I'm not going to let you die from exhaustion.”</p><p>	Out of all of them Anna was the one I expected to care the least about me.  When I asked why she bothered the conversation took a turn: we all felt guilty about what had happened with Katherine, but she herself did not see us through that lens.  Anna, as the person she confided in the most, was slowly but surely working on forgiveness.</p><p>	“Shit Cath, of course I care” she explained, running a hand through her hair.  “Even when I was angry it wasn't...  Damn, it wasn't exactly not caring it was...”</p><p>	“A fucking mess?” Anne finished for her.  Your mother conceded.</p><p>	Sharing those feelings, not just me but the others as well, was trying.  Katherine reassured everyone at every chance and we had to ask her not to just so we could finish speaking clearly.  The accusations that were thrown that day held no weight, no ill intent.  For the first time in far too long we were trying to understand what it was that had happened to us, individually and as a group.  Why we had retreated, what had gotten us cross.</p><p>	I will admit that not having the spotlight on me and my sleep problems for a while was a welcome breather.  I believe I would have shut down if we hadn't taken that detour before continuing.  Whether it was a calculated move on their part or not it still worked well.</p><p>	“Look...” Annie said to wrap things up.  “If we're going to care about each other even when we're pissed off, I propose we just get along.  Because let me tell you: we're dismal at not caring.”</p><p>	Of course it was a bit harder than that.  The conversation was a good place to start for all of us, but not a permanent fix.  Feelings were still hurt and bonds uncertain.  It was then that Jane proposed we go to group therapy.  Katherine's suicide attempt was a collective traumatic experience that had affected everyone, was it not?  </p><p>	“I'd rather fix this before I lose any of you again.”</p><p>	The quickest to agree was Anne.  “I'll do anything if it means I get to be on Lina's good side again.”</p><p>	“Dear I don't need a therapist to be your friend... but yes, fine by me.”</p><p>	Anna's sentiment was exactly and in the end the last ones to join were Katherine and I.  Her under the pretext that we were all “messed up because of her” and so “she didn't deserve us”; which Lina shot down quickly by reminding her that we loved her and we wanted her safe, so she would have to trust us.</p><p>	My sole hangup was a mixture of exhaustion and feeling like I too did not deserve it.  Come to think of it my feelings while sleep deprived were almost like Katherine's at her lowest.  That is terrifying to consider.  But in the end I figured that if she was taking a leap of faith by trusting the others when we said we cared about her I would have to do the same.  I had helped them, I would let them aid me.  If they changed their mind about me I would know, so I just had to be fair and give them a chance.</p><p>	Easier said than done; yet for the purpose of conveying how we became a family that is descriptive enough.  There were ups and downs and other hardships, but the result was generally positive.</p><p>	Granted, the conversation could not finish on that sweet note because we still had to discuss the elephant in the room: my disastrous sleeping pattern.  Though worry not, it did not end badly.  It was just tense and frankly embarrassing.  I felt so helpless and brittle before them both then and for a long time later.  Though I knew (after sleeping better and being at least somewhat lucid) that they would not hurt me, the breach that my imprisonment trauma left as it escaped from my dreams managed to trip me up a fair share of times.  Being honest and vulnerable with them was a challenge, but a worthy one.</p><p>	Obviously nothing bad ever came of that.  Quite the opposite, my girl.</p><p>	After I told them about the nightmares and how desperate I had been to keep all my feelings trapped in my dreams we began a collective research session.  It did not take long for Katherine to pipe up saying I could have a caffeine addiction.  As I read the article she sent me dread pooled in my stomach.  Fatigue, headaches, uneasiness...  As ready as I was to lump all those symptoms in with the ones caused by exhaustion I knew exactly how much coffee I had been consuming.  Chances were my body had developed a need for it.</p><p>	Were you ever to find yourself in a situation in which you become addicted to something (I pray you do not and implore you to seek help) then it is important to know that the following is not a good example of what to do.  Quitting cold turkey can be devastating.</p><p>	As you must have gathered, the others insisted that I needed to reduce caffeine consumption little by little, one step at a time.  The best would be if I asked for professional help, but stepping foot into a doctor's office was not an option I considered.  My life had been stressful enough as was those days, I did not need to deal with phantom pains.  At first I agreed, but when Jane slipped a cup of coffee between my hands the scent alone almost made me sick.</p><p>	I could not stand it.  It disgusted me.  I had used it as a means to escape like a coward instead of facing my feelings and problems.  I did not know enough about ending an addiction to trust that I would not fall again.  The prospect of becoming a sleep deprived wreck and hurting the others on the way made me uneasy.  Holding that cup felt like holding a hand grenade at the time.</p><p>	And so I decided that I would go through worse withdrawal symptoms in a shorter amount of time rather than easing my unavoidable misery day by day.  Your mother and aunties did their best to convince me otherwise and I must say I almost gave in.  I did not want to be a burden for them during those days in which withdrawal would be worse.  But in the end the fear that I would put them through what I already had if I stopped sleeping once more outweighed their pleas.  </p><p>	It was also for me, though.  Mostly for me.  I believe I wanted to close that chapter of my life as quickly as possible to prove to myself that I could indeed cease running from my fears.  That where I had hidden away for so long I could step out of my comfort zone and do what I knew was right and better for me.  It was time to take a deep breath and face whatever was to come without excuses.</p><p>	Again a reminder that this is not necessarily healthy and you should always strive to get assistance from experts.  Please Mae.</p><p>	Recovery from caffeine dependence can take anywhere from two to nine days on average.  Withdrawal symptoms begin around twelve hours from the previous intake of caffeine and they peak at around 21 hours.</p><p>	Which is the scientific way of saying everyone had one hellish weekend.</p><p>	I find no need to go into specifics.  I have already listed some of the symptoms earlier.  My memories from those five days are also smudged in between pain and restlessness.  What I carry no doubts about is that your mother and your aunties were there for me.  They really did mean it when they told me they loved me.  Trust me: nobody would willingly care for a person going through withdrawal of any kind if they did not.  From making sure I ate properly to just being there for me and keeping me distracted, I was not alone for a single second I did not wish to be.</p><p>	My withdrawal period came to a close soon, in the first days of December along with the first specks of snow.  With those also came a curt e-mail from my boss firing me.  In the end auntie Anne, who had been my willing proof-reader for a while, convinced me to let her write my article.  I gave her scraps from something I had abandoned in favour a more interesting topic a few months prior and she made a very decent article out of it in two days' time.  And no, I was not sacked because your auntie did a bad forgery (quite the opposite, she has my writing style down cold), but because I told my boss that I would be abandoning the other article I had taken on.</p><p>	“I specifically asked if you would do this, Catherine, and you said you wouldn't.  I'm sorry.”</p><p>	It felt like a personal failure, like something to regret forever.  I was the only adult in that household who did not have a job or a reliable source of income.  The little voices in my head, which took longer to quiet than I would have liked, tempted me to sink again.  To let them drown out reality.  </p><p>	But what would that have fixed?  Instead, hard as it was, I put my everything into finding a new workplace.  A contract arrived in time to serve as an early Christmas gift.  It would seem that the person I was before waking up had quite the impressive resume.  </p><p>	As for me, I gave in as I should have much earlier and started my own individual therapy.  As well as the first person to lose a job I also became the first person for who therapy did not go well.  The problem was that I was being assessed as an allistic person.  The therapist I went to did not believe in women with autism since it was, according to her, such a rare occurrence it was negligible.</p><p>	At first I did not know why therapy was not working.  Why I froze when given coping mechanisms the others found useful.  The techniques that they discussed sounded alien to me, abstract concepts I could not make sense of.  It was Anne that I understood best when she spoke of her sessions and the advice that went well for her.  And to a much lesser extent, Jane.</p><p>	When I mentioned that at dinner one night your mother followed me to my room afterwards, asking if she could have a word.  I hadn't really spent time alone with her since Katherine returned from the hospital, so I was equal parts anxious and expectant.</p><p>	“I didn't think it was my place to tell you this, I'm not a professional” she began, scratching the back of her neck.  “But maybe...  Perhaps I have an idea why your sessions aren't going anywhere.”</p><p>	Anna helped me read up on ASD until we were both tired and she headed back to her room.  So many things fit just right; like a floodlight illuminating dark corners of my mind and showing parts of it that were previously shrouded in shadow.  Yet until I was certain I did not want to tell the others.  Your mother took me to a specialized therapist the following morning.  Though she could not accompany me to all the referral appointments due to her work schedule she did text me during every break to ask if I was free to talk and how everything was going.</p><p>	Getting diagnosed with ASD, as of writing this, is an incredibly invasive process.  The people who are supposed to help wind up doubting your every claim and trying to turn your words against you.  While not a universal experience many autistic people as myself have gone through it as well.  After getting diagnosed my new therapist (obviously had to leave the first one) was amazing and I had no problems with her; but I almost quit several times during the referral.  It felt more like an interrogation.</p><p>	As you can imagine, when Anna and I told everyone else nobody cared.  Other than asking a few questions to know what they could do to help me and what cues to look out for I might as well have said my favourite colour was blue.  I told them during lunch one Sunday morning and after they asked their doubts we quite literally moved on from that to if there were any cookies left and what movie to watch.  No drama, no overblown reactions much to my relief.  I had been so nervous in the hours leading up to that conversation that you would think I had not witnessed how calm everyone was about Anne's ADHD.</p><p>	Given the aura of unity that I am describing you must be under the impression that group therapy was going well.  And it was my girl, it went just fine.  Just not as linear as I am writing, but you get an idea.  Any misunderstandings were worked through in a productive way rather than waiting until the problem subsided on its own.  Arguments were discussed either in the moment or a bit later when the people involved had cooled down instead of letting them gather dust and ignoring them for days on end.</p><p>	It was a bumpy road, but it lead us to its destination.</p><p>	Even with the shaky start I do believe we made progress reasonably fast.  Movie days were once again an activity we shared.  Annie could be found trying to eat the cookie dough when Jane and Katherine were baking.  In time Anna resumed her board games with Lina.  Anne returned to my room to ramble about the most random things again.  Now that we knew I am not neurotypical your auntie flooded me with questions.  About stims, the differences between ASD and ADHD, sensory overload...  </p><p>	Some times Jane would join us.  Though Dyslexia is wildly different from ASD and ADHD dyslexic people have a very particular out-of-the-box way of thinking and processing life that some times left Jane feeling more connected to Annie and I than the others.  Some of my fondest memories of this period of time are of the three of us holed up in one of our rooms talking about interactions and societal norms we found baffling.  Mostly Anne and I while Janey worked either on her newest project or read something.  But there was something so comforting about having Anne practically draped between Jane's lap and mine, having a safe haven to discuss things that to others come naturally without judgement.</p><p>	Not to say that Anna, Kitty or Lina were judgemental, of course.  But how does the saying go?  “Birds of a feather flock together”?  There are things that only people with certain shared experiences understand on a fundamental level.  Having others around you who are in the same boat fends off feelings of isolation.</p><p>	What took me by far the longest to recover from was my grief about you.  I wound up developing survivor's guilt.  It is a strange thing to say seeing as I did not technically outlive you; but as much as I questioned my worth as a caretaker I wondered doubly so if I could have saved you from the plethora of scenarios that flooded my mind.</p><p>	Janey and Anna helped most in that area.  Jane did not feel attacked or vilified when she learnt that I felt as if I had abandoned you.  She experienced that quite often herself, but had ultimately come to terms with the fact that her survival had not been in her hands.  Your mother, who had typical survivor's guilt, shared her recovery steps with me and encouraged me to do the same with her.  We were our own private little support system.</p><p>	I am positive that Lina and Annie also had their bit of survivor's guilt over their miscarriages, but they never speak of those to the rest of us.  Only with each other.</p><p>	Even though recovery is a tough road it also left me with bright and colourful memories.  Of not feeling alone, of learning to trust again and regaining confidence.  I once again felt protected by the others; and having them come to me with their problems so I could help them instead of wondering if they were alright was refreshing.  I felt valuable to them, treasured their trust.</p><p>	I am going on another rant, aren't I?  About the happier days.  Well, you know what?  Allow me to indulge myself once more.  Technically this fits the bill of recounting our story.  It is about how we got together again in the aftermath of my addiction, it is important.  And most definitely not an excuse for me to latch on to those times in my final hours.  </p><p>	The more I write the clearer the scenes become in my mind, Mae.  Reminiscing these instances is like wrapping a warm blanket directly around my heart.  I would like to show you the life I knew and how it made me feel.  I will not have another chance to share my world with you.  I guess you can always skip ahead if you are just interested in the main plot points, for lack of a better term.</p><p>	But if I know you at all and you maintain your curious spirit you will not.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And done!!  I'm going to post the ending now sldjfls i'm so excited because next chapter is kind of the half way point!!  Anyways thank you everyone for your time, feel free to let me know if you liked this chapter.  See you in a minute~!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Family</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay!!  At long last it is happening!!  They're a family!!</p><p>Who's ready for Christmas fluff on May 1st?  Because that's what we have here ^^</p><p>So~!!  I don't really have much to add here since last chapter but the end note will be a bit longer.</p><p>No warnings apply i think except for a brief mention of hEDS and Katherine's recovery but it's just a line or two.</p><p>So yeah i hope you like it!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The changes did not happen in the snap of a finger, but we did come closer together.  I fixed my relationship with Lina fastest of all, and then little by little the others.  Surprisingly it was Katherine who took the longest time to approach me.  You would think it would be Anna, or almost anyone save the one of us who was notorious for building bridges.  She had a reason, though, or at least she thought she did.</p><p>	A few weeks after my withdrawal symptoms ended there was a knock on my door close to midnight.  Despite dropping caffeine I am still every bit a night owl and do my best work at night.  Nonetheless it would take me some time to be comfortable working into the crack of dawn again after going through that episode.  Back then midnight was as late as I allowed myself to stay awake.</p><p>	I sat up in bed, asking whoever was on the other side to come in.  For a second the door did not budge, but in the end a very anxious Kitty poked her head in.</p><p>	“I... just wanted to know if you were asleep.  And uhm, I was hoping you wouldn't reply because were already asleep.  Every night this week when I've come you've already been sleeping so...  Well, you're in bed, I won't keep you much longer.  Night!”</p><p>	That she had been checking up on me for some time caught me off guard.  I did not think she was worried about me, we rarely spoke.  I asked if she could stay for a moment and though she radiated hesitation and trapped her fingers in her hair as she anxiously toyed with it she agreed.</p><p>	“Of course I'm concerned!!  Cathy I...”</p><p>	In short, she felt guilty for my sleeping disorder, claiming that if she had dealt better with her feelings perhaps it would not have happened.  Then again, pinning responsibilities onto herself had lead to a disastrous conclusion already.  She was doing her best to balance showing she cared with respecting my boundaries.  Or what she perceived to be my boundaries.</p><p>	That conversation ended with Katherine curled up against me under the covers.  She sighed almost in relief when I pulled her closer.</p><p>	“So basically what I was saying... is that I don't want to bother you and I can just... keep my distance again if it'll make you happier.”</p><p>	I may have been very emotional at the time and said something corny along the lines of “this is the only distance I want you at” in sync with giving her a little squeeze.  That remark may or may not have made your auntie giggle and call me a nerd.  But it made her laugh.  It was well worth it.</p><p>	She fell asleep a bit before me, courtesy of her medication.  That was the first time, and one of the rare few, in which your auntie let me rub her scalp.  For the most part she was uneasy with the gesture in any bed or laying position, too close to playing with her hair for comfort.  It was the ultimate proof of trust for her.</p><p>	I was mesmerized by that.  I am positive I was at least slightly happier just because of it.  Much like an actual cat, being close to your auntie was a natural serotonin dispenser.  Her name could not be more accurate.</p><p>	I guess that was one of the three hardest relationships to fix; the others being auntie Anne and Lina, and Janey and your mother.  Counterintuitively, it was the first of those who managed to mend their bond.</p><p>	That auntie Kitty and I had issues to work through is easy to understand: we both felt responsible for hurting the other and had to put effort into moving past that.  The same can be said for Janey and your mother: it was Jane who told Katherine nobody cared when she died.  Not only untrue, but something she believed to fiercely that she convinced herself not even Anna had cared.</p><p>	As to why auntie Anne and auntie Lina had their own hangups it was not directly linked to that incident.  Yes, Lina had called Katherine “the least relevant” and it had comprehensibly hurt Anne.  But their problem stemmed more from having lost contact.  After we all went our separate ways in the beginning of the aftermath Annie did side with Anna.  At first because she was cross at Lina; but that anger subsided rather soon.  The main problem was Anne was afraid she had lost Lina.  And Lina was convinced Anne hated her.</p><p>	Their relationship, for I would hazard to say as much as the first year or so, was very frail.  They cared for each other deeply but Anne could not see herself as anything other than the source of all pain in Lina's first life.  She often went above and beyond, some times to the point of burnout, to please Lina and not cause her any distress.  If Anne got stuck on any interaction with us (be it due to sarcasm not made obvious in intonation, a common idiom she was unfamiliar with or the like) she would just ask what we meant and move on.  If that happened with Lina, no matter how much the latter reassured Annie she would not be cross at her for having to explain herself, Anne would rather seek out Anna or Kitty and ask them than risking “bothering” Lina.</p><p>	Little things like that punctured their relationship for a long time.  It often seemed as if Anne went out of her way to water herself down around Lina.  She would apologize if she told her about hyperfixations, or if she did something on impulse.  It looked as if Anne would never have a normal friendship with Lina that wasn't coated in anxiety on her part.</p><p>	It was nerve-wracking for Lina as well, my girl.  Your auntie did not want Anne to feel on edge around her all the time.  Given how prone your auntie is to gaslight herself when she cares about people Lina always feared that she was doing something wrong with Annie.  That somehow she treated Anne condescendingly or authoritatively and that was what caused Annie's stress.  Despite her stony exterior Lina takes feelings very seriously.  She has always been gentlest of all with our Annie; and doubly so in that time in which it appeared that Anne was afraid to make even the slightest mistake with her.</p><p>	As such when both of them stopped talking for a while neither really knew where to begin again.  Anne kept her distance, convinced she had made Lina feel worse and Lina did the same, believing that she should respect Anne's decision to stay away.  </p><p>	After a few sessions of group therapy they resumed going on walks.  Whatever they discussed in them is private to them; but I can assure you it helped.  After almost a month of avoiding each other their situation was resolved in one of the most adorable scenes I have ever stumbled onto.</p><p>	Your mother insisted I work out with her during my caffeine recovery.  Exercise helps.  Though in all honesty I agreed to because I would take any excuse to spend more time with your mother.</p><p>	We came back from a jog one morning close to Christmas break and heard, with no context, your auntie Anne say “I love how it sounds.”  To which Lina asked what she was talking about.</p><p>	Anna and I entered the living room on time to hear Anne say “Your heartbeat” before explaining how anxious she had been when Lina first got palpitations.  That despite not being friends she was still afraid for her safety.</p><p>	Mind you Annie was laying on Lina resting her head on her chest while Lina played with her hair.  She got a bit teary-eyed (what she later insisted was just an allergy) as Anna cleared her throat to make our presence known.  It was uncomfortable for all parties involved but your mother and I really needed a shower.  There was no way to reach the bathroom in our old house except through the living room; and the one on the top floor did not have a shower.</p><p>	From that moment forwards Lina and Anne continued to take baby steps and gain confidence in their bond.  And after that practically everything went back to normal.  Though there was still palpable tension between Anna and Jane that made it almost impossible for all six of us to spend time together out of the therapy mandated movie day on Sundays.</p><p>	They avoided each other.  Your mother admittedly had a very hard time forgiving “nobody cared when you died”, and Jane had her fair amount of trouble getting close to all of us.  She did feel the most responsible out of us and nobody could convince her otherwise.  For a while it seemed as if Anna and Jane would not manage to recover.</p><p>	I doubt you remember and it has been an oversight on my part to not address that auntie Kitty studied music.  When she first found out upon waking up she was mortified.  Music made her remember things she did not want to.  However once she discovered what instrument she played she was overjoyed.  Or, instruments, more accurately.</p><p>	Your auntie was a percussionist.  She played the drums, the snare, the timpani, the marimba, the xylophone, the vibraphone and I am positive there were others I am forgetting.  She practiced for hours every day; mostly at the conservatory since she did not have an instrument of her own at home until later on when we bought her a marimba (her hands trembled with excitement, that was quite expressive for her).  </p><p>	Through that assortment of instruments she was able to express her passion for music without dealing with any sort of memories about lutes or other instruments that had been popular during our first life.  Percussion instruments did not fit in with court, and that was precisely what made them intoxicatingly attractive to Katherine.  We have recordings of most all her concerts; as a soloist and in the conservatory's orchestra once she joined it.  You can watch them if you'd like.  Your auntie looked powerful and free on stage, it was her favourite place in the world.  To her nothing compared to the thrill of creating ethereal art.  Her music only existed when she played it, it was there for the duration of the piece and then vanished.  That brought her more joy than anything else in the world.</p><p>	But before I go down another spiral of “I have missed Katherine every day of my life for the past two years”, you only needed to know that to understand why I am about to tell you about a Christmas concert.</p><p>	Every 21st of December Katherine's conservatory held a charity concert.  Well, I assume they still do.  Besides the point.  Anyways, assistance was rarely mandatory for individual students (the choir and orchestra were obligated to play); but your auntie would get on a stage even if she had to drag herself from her death bed (once she went to an audition with a 40 degree fever).  As such it was impossible to convince her not to participate in the concert.</p><p>	She had not attended a single class all term, but her teacher allowed Katherine to play a piece she had aced the previous year (and admittedly an easy one far under her level) if she could do three rehearsal sessions first.  It was painstaking and exhausting, but your auntie pulled through.  We let her mostly because her therapist insisted it was a good way to keep her motivated.  She returned home exhausted from all three sessions (and even more so from the concert itself), but to her it was worth it and hence for us as well.</p><p>	I stayed at home.  That auditorium was far too loud for me, I did not want to have an overload in the middle of Katherine's concert and force one of the others to sit it out with me.  I watched the recordings religiously, though.</p><p>	However, despite me skipping it, someone did leave the auditorium in a rush that particular 21st of December.  During Katherine's performance no less.  Auntie Jane got up and left, crying.  </p><p>	Anne and Lina were in the box seat to get the best recording.  Anna stayed on the ground floor seats to offer Kitty moral support before her performance (she got very anxious even though she was the best at every single concert and no I take no criticism on that opinion) and very begrudgingly Jane stayed with her.  You also probably do not recall that Janey had the worst fear of heights.  Even the box seat made her queasy.</p><p>	She and Anna had barely crossed a few words until then.  Your mother waited a minute for Katherine to finish before going after Jane.  She did consider texting Lina or Anne to deal with whatever was wrong with your auntie, but in the end she decided against it.</p><p>	“We had to sort ourselves out at one point or another, right?” she told me later.  “I figured that was as good a moment as any other.”</p><p>	Your mother caught up to Jane in the patio.  Janey had started crying because, as she watched at Katherine on stage in awe, she could not help but think about the circumstances in which our girl had gotten there.  The tiredness, the pain, the brain fog...</p><p>	Jane thought it should not have been that hard.  That Katherine should not have had to achieve something that made her so vibrantly happy through such barbaric effort.  And, in Jane's opinion, that was her fault.</p><p>	“What if she hadn't been there tonight, Anna?” she told your mother when she was asked why she was crying.  “What if we'd buried her months ago?  I would have done that.  I would have been guilty.  I almost was.”</p><p>	After Jane died last year your mother and I talked about her quite a lot.  Many of these private moments between them I learnt about from those conversations.  </p><p>	Your mother relayed that Jane looked as fragile as the thin ice covering the ground where the rain had pooled the previous night.  As if any wrong word could shatter her.  Anna felt responsible for that, in part.  Granted what Jane had told Katherine was inexcusable; but she payed for her words tenfold with grief and guilt.  </p><p>	“I had no right to make her feel worse” Anna told me the night of her funeral.  Her voice was so hoarse from crying, her gaze so lost in the space before her.  “I wasted so much time being cross at her.  Now I'm never getting it back.”</p><p>	As I mentioned earlier, Katherine confided in Anna the most, making it easier for her to free herself of the reductionist perspective sooner than the rest of us.  It was that knowledge that made it easier for her to step up to Jane and pull her in an awkward embrace.  What she saw in Jane was more a shell of a person than an actual person.  She was consumed by remorse over a sentence she had not truly meant.  Granted impact is not the same as intent (and in that particular event the impact was devastating), but it was blatantly obvious that Jane was aware of that.</p><p>	And, in any case, she was not guiltier that Lina, Anne or myself.  What we had done was bad; but it was far from the extent of the problems that had lead Katherine to her demise.  Anna knew that, at least.  </p><p>	After she comforted Jane that night they slowly resumed their friendship where they had left it.  Bit by bit until a few months later it became common once more to find them asleep on the couch cuddling under a blanket because they had stayed up watching crime series until dawn.</p><p>	“What?” Jane said when we teased her about it.  “It's not like we have time to catch up with every episode during the week!  We have to do it on weekends!”</p><p>	Interactions between Jane and your mother were always delightful, Mae.  They were, respectively, the most outrageously feminine and tomboyish of us.  Yet Anna would melt into the most adorable puddle of gratitude when Jane gave her, say, a pillow case she had embroidered for her; or a hand-made crown of flowers.  And though Jane honestly had no clue about most of Anna's hobbies she would learn about them in her free time to understand Anna's life better.  Their conversations easily switched from crochet patterns to sports in the blink of an eye.  Even I did not put as much effort into learning those things as Jane did; and I'm married to Anna.</p><p>	But that was just Jane.  She was the sotfest person ever.  A patch of sunlight in any weather.</p><p>	No, worry not.  I will not go down the “I have also missed Jane every day of my life for the past year” road.  I will move on and explain perhaps the true final step in the making of this family.</p><p>	Our second Christmas together had nothing to do with the first one, my princess.  It was easily one of the happiest moments of our second life.  Courtesy of Annie and Katherine being excitable as can be about Christmas decorations our home looked more like a Christmas shop exhibit than a house.  Decorating the tree together listening to Christmas carols is one of my favourite memories.</p><p>	Of course there are too many to pick from: Janey and Katherine making Christmas cookies together (and Jane booping Katherine's nose with a finger full of pink icing), gift shopping (it was stressful for me, but your mother being the angel she is helped me pick out good gifts), Jane asking Anne to let her experiment with her hair and inadvertently leading Annie to her obsession with space buns...  But the one I am going to focus on, as it was the birth of a family tradition, is how we began playing Dungeons and Dragons every weekend.</p><p>	(I guess I could also mention that Anne followed Anna and I with mistletoe around the house until she got us both under it -she had to stand on the stairs for it-.   I thought nothing of it and kissed your mother on the cheek.  “You both crashed” was what Katherine told us later.  She'd been watching, allied with her cousin of course, and said we became “the embodiment of the Windows error sound”.  But that is here nor there).</p><p>	We spent Christmas day in a proper blanket fort designed by Lina and Anne.  Our therapist had recommended we find another activity for the six of us to do together other than just watching movies, so initially we had settled on video games.  Lina and I did not enjoy them much in general and Katherine's taste was so specific most multi-player games did not do it for her either.  </p><p>	I had been intrigued by Dungeons and Dragons for a long time.  It struck me as a very innovative and interactive way of telling stories and the lore was fascinating to my inner fantasy nerd.  As such, when we played enough rounds of Mario Kart and Smash Brothers (the only two games all of us either liked or tolerated) that they became boring I gathered some courage and proposed my idea.  The concept was met with skepticism, but the others agreed to try it.</p><p>	“Not gonna lie: we did it out of pity at first, you were obviously excited” Anne confessed a few months later.</p><p>	We spent the rest of the afternoon building our characters: Anna's ranger, Lina's cleric, Janey's druid, Anne's bard (an asexual bard mind you), Katherine's necromancer and my wizard.  </p><p>	They would soon develop a fascination for the campaign I had set up for them (player character DM, I did not want to miss out on the fun).  We did not know it yet but we had found the activity that would force us to sit together even if we had had an argument.  No matter what happened, unless someone was sick, DnD afternoons were sacred.  Katherine sped to finish her homework as soon as possible so she could at least have the entirety of Sunday afternoon to advance our party's adventures.</p><p>	“The Queens of the Old Kingdom”.  It's been a while since I've written that name.</p><p>	But then again character building can be rather boring and none of them except for Katherine were sold on DnD when we went to bed.  By that, on a blanket fort day, I mean a household wide sleepover.</p><p>	I got to sleep with Janey in that one, with Anna on her other side.  Katherine was between Lina and Anne on the top row of mattresses.  After Lina more or less questioned everyone to ask which elements of the blanket fort they had liked the most (and blaming the least liked ones on Annie) we bade each other a good night and a happy Christmas.</p><p>	“I think we make a great family, even if we're kinda dysfunctional some times” Katherine said through a yawn.  “Good night.”</p><p>	My heart could have stopped.  A family?  That was a beautiful sentiment, it was exactly how I envisioned the rest of them.  They were my family, but what if they did not feel the same?</p><p>	Apparently the ambiance was generally tense, not just myself.  “Collectively holding our breaths waiting for someone to say something”, was how your mother described it.</p><p>	“Agreed” Lina said at last.  “Sleep tight, little one.”</p><p>	That was the moment in which we became a family.  Officially.  From that moment forwards whichever troubles we faced we did so together.  I was so happy.  Words could not do it justice; that sort of joy I can only remember through feelings.  It is beyond language, my girl.</p><p>	And I believe that is it.  These are the steps, the trials and tribulations that we faced, to become the family we are today.  For another three years things would  continue relatively the same.  Until we found you children and became a family of ten, that is.</p><p>	Granted, that is not to say these are the only six crisis we went through.  There were so many rough moments through the years.  But the important part is that for the most part nobody wound up in the hospital because of them.  Except of course 90% of Katherine's problems which indeed landed her in the hospital because they were directly linked to hEDS.</p><p>	No, from that point forwards we strived to handle our feelings with more care and we learnt to trust each other.  There were problems, but never again did they get so wildly out of hand.</p><p>	I am going to summarize those three years in a moment and then move on to your arrivals.  I am so excited to tell you this story, Mae.  I cannot wait to share with you the pure joy of having the four of you back.  Prepare yourself for so many proud mum moments that you feel embarrassed.</p><p>	Come on, my girl.  Let us continue.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And done!!  Alright alright so!!  This is the halfway point!!  The first half was about how the six of them became a family and the second one is about the kids.  So that's what's coming up.  </p><p>The part i had clearer in my head was this first one.  The second one i have a general plot for but still feels a bit vague.  I know how it ends and when and i know the key points to get there but i'll have to think about it a bit more (i don't think upload schedules will be affected though, they're usually three weeks from each other anyway).  In all honesty i did not expect this story to interest anyone and i wasn't expecting to upload anything past chapter 2.  But people liked it and of that i am most thankful.  I'm glad about it.</p><p>On that note, two things: one, i don't really like The Least Relevant Katherine part 2.  It wasn't very pleasant to write since it was rather heavy (heavier than normal) and i kind of feel like it was a bit rushed.  I might rewrite some parts (don't worry if i do i'll mention the changes in the notes next chapter so nobody has to read it again) so if there was something you didn't like about that chapter or that you felt was missing let met know and if it works with the story i'll take it into account (or if you did like it and don't want anything changed, i'm aware i'm very anxious and not always an objective critic to myself).</p><p>Secondly, since the next part about the kids i haven't really fleshed out yet if there's anything you'd like to see included i'll also consider it if it fits with the story.  Headcanons or whatever.  In case anyone's interested we're working with: 20 yo Mary, 12 yo Lizzie, 5 yo HoH Eddie and 1 yo Mae.</p><p>There's no pressure to answer either of these questions i just thought i'd leave those doors open.  </p><p>So, recapping: next chapter is going to be a sort of interlude between parts 1 and 2 so that the time jump doesn't leave things unexplained.   Since it'll (potentially) be shorter i'll rewrite the first chapter to fit the fact that this memoir has been written over the course of weeks (not one day, this story got out of hand) and potentially The Least Relevant Katherine part 2.  Also i'll take the time to think the second half more thoroughly and hopefully get it all together in my head before i start writing the second half.</p><p>Thank you very, very much for your time everyone, and for sticking around this long.  I hope this was worth it and i will see you soon.  Take care and have a lovely day~!!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And there we go!  I hope you enjoyed it, please tell me your thoughts if you feel like it.  Take care and stay safe everyone, I hope you have a good day~!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>